


Our Song

by Darkglade



Category: Angel Beats!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 13:52:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 40,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15931769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkglade/pseuds/Darkglade
Summary: The first time, she came for food. The second time, she came for music. The third time, she came for him.





	1. You brought a dream here

There were days when Yuzuru regretted ever getting out of bed.

By the time he realized that this would be another one of _those_ days, it was already far too late.

The door to his shop slammed open, and a purple-haired whirlwind of chaos waltzed in.

“Yuzuru! I’m about to make your day!” Yuri said with a grin.

It was her “devil smile,” the kind she wore only when she had a crazy scheme in mind to ruin someone’s day. Simply experiencing it was enough to cause the weak-willed to buckle; he had heard many tales of attorneys and witnesses crumpling before the sheer pressure she could exude with a mere smile.

Not for the first time, he could only marvel at his friend’s success. With her assertive and confident attitude and a powerful and persuasive voice, she had rarely lost a case, making her one of the most sought-after lawyers in the country.

He wondered why someone like her came back to his dingy old shop time and time again.

“You know, saying that only scares me more than if you hadn’t said anything,” he replied.

 As Yuri walked deeper in the store, a group of about a dozen people followed her, trickling in one-by-one.

“Aw, don’t be like that! You’re about to earn more money today than you typically do in an entire week!”

He rolled his eyes. “I’d be more grateful if you and your co-workers didn’t have the most stringent and complex orders I’ve ever seen.”

He already felt a headache forming. Because really, why couldn’t they act like sane people and order something normal (like a vanilla latte) and not something crazy (like a non-fat, sugar-free syrup, extra ice, no whip, extra hot, caramel macchiato upside down).

Yeah. He didn’t know what that last one was supposed to mean either.

Yuri smiled mischievously. “Well, it wouldn’t do if you didn’t have to work for your pay, hmm?”

“There’s work, and then there’s asking me to be a coffee-making robot who just so happens to be capable of understanding human speech.”

She laughed good-naturedly, and he sighed as the orders piled on.

Well, at least they were more generous with their tips than most.

xxx

“So, what’s the occasion this time?”

“What, can’t I visit my favorite barista when I want to?”

“You rarely do so with half your firm in tow.”

Yuri rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine.” She leaned back and took a deep gulp of her coffee. “Ah, great stuff as always, Yuzuru.” She placed the cup back down and folded her arms in front of her. “It was a child custody case. The father was trying to win custody by accusing his wife of being a drug addict. He even planted evidence by drugging her in her sleep when they were still married!”

She scowled. “Explaining that when he covered his tracks so well was a real pain.” She paused, a dark look creeping onto her face. “He also had a history of abusing his children, but he covered that up too. Pinned all the blame on the mother by saying she did it all while in a drug-induced rage.” She gritted her teeth as she recalled how the man had lied to their faces. “What a lying, cheating bastard. Too bad for him . . .” Her eyes glowed with an ominous light. “Our investigation team was just a bit too good for him.”

She laughed creepily, an eerie sound that sent shivers up his spine.

“For the hero that came in and saved the day,” he said. “You sure like to laugh like a villain.”

She grinned widely at him. “I can’t help it. I just love the sight of my opponents squirming at the podium right before I tear their case to shreds.”

He shuddered. Hopefully, he would never be on the receiving end of her stare in _that_ scenario.

“I presume you won the case, then?”

She nodded. “After we exposed his lies, the case was a cakewalk. In the end, even the judge looked disgusted with him.” She beamed. “I got a nice, tearful thank-you from the wife afterward, too.”

And wasn’t _that_ a scene difficult to imagine the normally unflappable lawyer in. But Yuri always did have a soft spot for children and caring parents by extension.

“Well,” he said. “I suppose a congratulation is in order.”

She looked back at him, and there was a glint in her eyes that made him very, very afraid.

_Oh no. It’s that grin again._

 “You know, I’m feeling generous today.” She raised her hand in the air then slammed it down on the counter.

The rest of the room paused as they turned to look at her.

She grinned before saying the words that would spell his doom. “Another round for everyone, all on me!”

As cheers erupted from the other customers, Yuzuru could only clutch his head in despair.

_Once was hard enough. Twice . . . ?_

He would be surprised if he didn’t have a permanent migraine by the end of the day.

xxx

“Ah . . . what a day.”

Yuzuru dragged himself through his closing routine, turning off appliances and organizing records. He did not have much cleaning to do; Yuri’s bunch could get rowdy, but they always had the decency to clean up after themselves.

“To think I miss their antics already . . .”

It wasn’t surprising. After all, the only thing that awaited him now was a sparse and lifeless apartment.

It was something he should have been used to by now. His parents had died while he was young, and his only remaining family was a sister who had been bedridden in a hospital for most of her life and a grandmother who only intervened enough to keep them out of an orphanage.

Without guidance from elders, he had drifted through life, never knowing what he wanted to do or where he wanted to go. Without support and encouragement from those close to him, he had lapsed into a state of apathy, a pitiful existence that could do nothing more than eat and sleep.

If he could, he would rather immerse himself in his job all the time. Connecting with his customers was a welcome reprieve to his otherwise dull life, and at least mundane work would distract him from the feelings of loneliness and apathy that threatened to overwhelm him. But he knew overexerting himself and staying open late would simply cause more trouble for him later.

“Well, that should be everything.”

He stepped outside and closed the doors. He fumbled around in his pockets, looking for his keys.

“Huh? Where’s my wallet?”

A quick glance revealed a curiously vacant pocket.

He rushed back indoors, frantically searching each area he had been through. The kitchen greeted him with sparkling counters and clean boards. The storage room was just as tidy, not an item out of place. The office appeared to be equally flawless until a hint of dark leather caught his attention –

“Phew, there it is.”

As Yuzuru opened his wallet to retrieve his keys, his fingers brushed over a picture he had always kept on him.

_Hatsune._

His hand slowed as he caressed the image of his sister’s visage. She had been the one light in his life, his sole reason for existence. Even after all these years, he still felt a dull throb in his heart whenever he thought of her.

He could still remember so many small details about her: her bell-like voice as she spoke to him about her day, the sound of her giggles as she read whatever manga he had bought for her, and her angelic smile and the warmth that had spread through him whenever she said those words he longed for.

_“Thank you so much, brother.”_

Those sweet words were the only thing that thawed the ice coating his heart. As the days went by, he had felt as if he were slowly awakening, that the dull and lifeless world he lived in was merely a dream.

Christmas was supposed to be the culmination of his efforts, the day where color swept back into the world like a torrent, carrying them off into a bright new future.

Instead, it was a day of despair, when those pale arms that had been weakly clasped around his neck grew cold and still, when she had whispered “thank you” one last time with that terrible finality in her voice –

Her death had left a gaping hole in his life. In the following days, he did not even have the will to move his body. He had lived for her gratitude, her affection. It was those small, tender moments that had kept him going, those memories he held dear in his heart. What purpose did he have now?

Depression had claimed him after that. With a frozen heart and a numb body, nothing in life had seemed worth living for.

But even in the darkest days of his despair, he could still remember his sister’s voice, the earnest gratitude in her tone. Those had been the only times his heart stirred. And once he realized this, he decided . . .

_I want to hear it from others._

He would spend his life pursuing that small, fleeting feeling. That rush of joy when he knew someone was happier because of _him_ , that _he_ was the reason for someone’s smile.

He would spend his life doing selfless things for selfish reasons.

But life was not so easily changed. During his days of apathy, he had fallen further and further behind. Higher education was not within his reach, so he would have to be content with more mundane work.

With a goal such as his, it was only natural that his first job would be to serve others.

More specifically, he had been an employee at the very coffee shop he now owned.

As he felt himself slip further into memories of an age long past, he shook his head to reorient himself.

“Man, I must be tired to get all lost in thought like that.”

He stepped outside once more, and with his newly found keys in hand, he finished his daily routine of closing shop.

He turned away with a heavy heart, dreading the thought of spending another cold, lonely night in his apartment.

At least he had his TV to keep him company. Surfing the channels would keep his mind occupied, at least for a while.

xxx

“Every time she picks up a new interest, she wants to perform some crazy feat with it, like doing a German Suplex or hitting a home run!”

Yuzuru nodded patiently as he poured the customer another drink. The sweet scent of vanilla lingered in the air, along with many other aromas that evoked tantalizing images. Being able to smell such wonderful scents in the morning was part of why he loved his job. Combined with the comforting rhythm of rinsing, washing, and drying used cups, his mind felt at ease.

Although he did not get many customers, the small nature of his shop and his friendly demeanor allowed him to maintain several regular customers.

His clients often complimented him for his store’s homey décor and relaxing atmosphere. Many of them came to wind-down after a long, stressful day of work.

Or to vent about whatever personal problems they were dealing with.

“When she can’t do it within a week of practice, she gives up and picks a new hobby!”

On occasions like these, it fell to him to dispense advice that would resolve the customer’s trouble.

“And I keep telling her that if she keeps on changing hobbies so often, she won’t become skilled at any of them!”

A mop of blue hair collapsed onto his counter. Weary, blue eyes stared out at him from under the bangs.

“She always drags me along to help her out. She’s getting more and more agitated as we cycle through all these activities without achieving her outlandish goals, and it’s taking a toll on me.”

He clasped his hands in front of him. “Tell me what I should do!”

“Have you asked her why she’s doing all this, Hinata?” Yuzuru asked calmly.

Blue eyes blinked at him. “Huh? Isn’t this just something girls like to do? Drag their boyfriends out to do things?”

“I don’t think they’re usually quite so zealous,” Yuzuru replied with a chuckle. “But from what you’ve told me, it sounds like she’s trying to impress you.”

“Whaaaaaaat? Impress me?!”

He nodded. “All those crazy feats she wants to do? Her insistence on bringing you along each time? She wants to succeed, and she wants you to be there when she does.” He smiled warmly. “She wants you to be proud of her, to praise her for her achievements.”

“What? Why . . . why does she feel like she needs to go so far? I love her because of who she is, not because of what she can do!”

“Then tell her that.” Yuzuru placed the glass cup that he had just finished cleaning onto a shelf. “People can be insecure; they’ll think they’re not good enough for their loved ones, that they need to prove themselves worthy of their love.”

He allowed himself a moment to admire the glass’s gleaming surface, unmarred by any stains or grease.

_“If you wipe away the grime on the surface, you’ll find that everyone has a beautiful core hidden within.”_

He picked up the next glass, one covered in filth. Bits of coffee grains clung to its innards while streaks of whip cream smeared its surface.

_“Even someone like me?”_

_The old man laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that shook him to his very soul. “You will take more effort than most to clean up, boy. But rest assured . . .”_

_His boss leaned in, close enough that he could smell the vanilla and cream on his breath._

_“All it takes is the right person to peel away your outer layers. And once they’re inside, what treasures will they find, I wonder?”_

He turned back to Hinata. “Tell her how you truly feel. Reassure her. Make sure that misunderstandings don’t taint your relationship.”

Hinata nodded vigorously. “Right, I got it! I just got to be clear and honest!” He pumped his fist. “You’re the best, Otonashi! I knew I could count on you!”

Yuzuru chuckled. “You could thank me by ordering another drink.”

“Right, right. Another round, to celebrate yet another successful advising session with my favorite barista!”

Yuzuru smiled as he prepared another drink for the energetic young man. Hinata had been one of the first customers to visit ever since he started working here, and the two had become fast friends after a few minutes of chatting.

Back then, he had trouble letting other people get close to him. His apathy and recent depression had given him thorns, a spiky barrier that warded away any who would tread near his heart.

But Hinata had not been afraid of being cut.

_“What’s the point of living, you ask? It’s to enjoy yourself! So stop moping and start living!”_

Eventually, Hinata’s friendly demeanor and persistence broke through his cold outer-shell. After that, he visited regularly to talk about whatever was on their minds.

He finished preparing the drink and brought it over. “Here you go, just how you like it.”

“Ahhhh, thanks!”

Hinata passed over his payment and took a deep gulp. “Now that’s the stuff!” He turned back to Yuzuru. “Say, I still got time before I have to get back. Want to watch a baseball game in the meantime?”

Yuzuru glanced around the store. There were no other customers, and nothing else seemed to need his attention. “Sure.”

He turned on the TV, and the first channel blared in their ears about a new product that would supposedly “revolutionize the world.”

He quickly changed the channel. This one was about a fashion show where models dressed up and posed for the camera.

Hinata whistled. “You know, I wouldn’t mind watching this one instead.”

Yuzuru rolled his eyes. He changed the channel again and stopped. Hauntingly beautiful piano music gently wafted through the room.

“Huh? That doesn’t sound like a sports channel!”

But Yuzuru did not hear Hinata’s complaints.

His eyes were fixated on the performer on screen.

She looked so very young, with a diminutive stature that reminded him of a fairy. Long silver hair billowed out behind her, shining brilliantly under the stage-lights as each strand danced to the melody. Eyes of molten gold focused in front of her, an intense gaze that allowed for no distractions. Her skin was porcelain, as unblemished as that of an angel. A white gown completed the image, an ethereal beauty that would disappear the moment one tried to grasp it.

Her fingers played with unerring precision, a technique so flawless that her hands seemed to flow over the keys instead of pressing them. Her body swayed with the rhythm, subtle motions that gave her the vibrancy of a dancer despite being restricted to a seat.

The song was slow, but each note was sharp and focused. It pierced through his fleshy shell and carved itself straight into his soul, each cadence infused with meaning and emotion.

The song was dark, a tale of tragedy and sorrow. There was a rise and fall to it, like a hope that had been cultivated simply so it could be dashed to the ground.

The song was a message, a representation of the pianist, imbued with her regrets, her fears, and her wishes.

The performance captivated him, like a star that drew in everything around it. Nothing else seemed to matter; he tuned out everything else until it was just him, the girl, and the music that tied them together.

And then all too soon, it was over.

She stood up and bowed, an elegant motion that only seemed to accentuate her natural grace. A wave of applause washed over her, a torrential outburst that seemed to have no end. The camera zoomed out, revealing just how massive the concert hall truly was.

It looked as if it could easily fit over a thousand people, and it was filled to the brim with attendees, all cheering for the one girl that had brought them there today.

The girl herself was now a mere speck on the screen. She looked so small, standing next to the imposing grand piano. The stage was wide and barren, the lights all focused on her. She was surrounded by a throng of humanity, but they could not have been further away. Because to them, she was unreachable, an angel who played with inhuman grace and heavenly hands.

He had never seen someone look so lonely. 

The TV shut off, startling him out of his thoughts.

Hinata put down the remote and looked at him with concern. “Are you okay? You were really out of it there.”

Yuzuru nodded numbly. “I’m fine. Just got a bit overwhelmed.”

Hinata seemed skeptical but didn’t press the issue. “If you say so.”

“Who was she anyway?” Yuzuru asked.

Hinata looked surprised. “What? Don't you know who she is? She’s like, one of the most famous pianists alive right now!”

Yuzuru shook his head. “This is the first time I’ve seen her.”

Hinata grinned. “Oh? You seemed to be staring at her quite intently during the performance.” He nudged his friend with an elbow. “Saw something you like?”

Yuzuru scowled. “Just answer the question.”

“Fine, fine.” Hinata rolled his eyes. “She hasn’t given out her real name, but her stage name is Angel, and she’s one of the youngest concert pianists to ever live.”

_Angel?_

The name felt oddly appropriate. Perhaps it was her appearance, the very image of an inhuman beauty. Perhaps it was her performance, demonstrating a skill that seemed untouched by mortal flaws.

Or perhaps it was the way she stood apart from the crowd, just like an angel tasked with watching over humanity.

Countless other thoughts ran through his mind, all focused on this girl. He wondered what it was about her that had ensnared him so easily.

There was the loud **thunk** of a glass hitting the counter as Hinata finished his drink.

“Well, it’s been nice chatting with you, but I got to head back to practice. Coach is gonna kill me if I’m late!”

Yuzuru half-heartedly waved as his friend rushed out the door, his mind still focused on sorting out his feelings regarding the mysterious, silver-haired girl.  

 xxx

“Have a nice day!”

He sighed as the customer left and his store was empty once more. As he went over the records from the day, he noticed that the store’s traffic had hovered around the norm.

Which was to say, not very much at all.

It was enough to pay the bills (most of the time) and make a living but expanding was out of the question at the current rate.

He leaned back in his seat, reminiscing about his old boss and the latter’s sheer enthusiasm for anything related to food.

_“Food is a fine art! An art I intend to master, and once I have, I will share my genius with the rest of the world!”_

_Sorry boss,_ he thought. _But I don’t think I can carry on your legacy._

All the recipes he knew were the ones that his former manager had taught him. He had never felt the drive nor the need to experiment, to innovate and come up with new exotic dishes like his former boss had.

He was grateful to the old man. He had been given a chance, an opportunity to prove himself when most other people would have outright rejected the disheveled and vacant-eyed boy he had been back then.

It had taken a while, but combined with his boss’s constant need to regale him with his discoveries and the sheer necessity of interacting with people to perform his job, he had slowly come out of his shell.

He wasn’t cured. Not by a long shot. But it had dulled his pain, made his loneliness and apathy a lingering thought in the back of his mind instead of an all-consuming force that threatened to overwhelm him.

At least while he was working anyway.

Nighttime was the worst; without his work or other people to distract him, the feelings threatened to come back in force.

But he had grown accustomed to dealing with the tendrils of dark feelings that threatened to encroach on his heart.

He stretched as he glanced outside. It was getting late, but it was still a few hours before his usual closing time. He briefly considered closing early. After all, the streets were empty, so it was unlikely that another customer would walk in. His feelings were still in a jumble from watching that concert earlier in the day, and it would be nice to have a few more hours to himself so he could sort himself out.

The bell rang, signifying the entrance of another customer, and the whole internal debate became a moot point.

“Welcome! What can I get . . . you . . .”

Even as his cognitive functions stopped working, a small part of him was dimly aware that it was _her,_ that the girl who had captured his imagination was standing right there in _his_ shop, and _would he pull himself together already?!_

Unknowing of his internal turmoil, the pianist walked forward with a gentle, steady gait. Her white skirt swished with the motion, and her footsteps echoed out loudly in the otherwise silent shop.

As she approached the counter, Yuzuru’s brain had recovered enough where he noticed the white blouse and short, blue jacket she now wore that made her no less elegant than the white gown she had worn for her performance.

This close, he could discern features that a mere camera could not convey: the fresh and breezy scent that lingered around her, the way her golden eyes reflected a stray ray of light in a brilliant manner, the perfectly rounded face that gave her a pure aura of innocence –

She reached the counter and sat down on a stool, and suddenly the situation felt all too real as if he hadn’t fully realized her presence until she was _right in front of him._

As she opened her mouth, Yuzuru’s thoughts were racing. What will she order? What song was she playing at the concert? Would it be rude to ask for an autograph?

“Mapo tofu, please.”

His train of thought came to a screeching halt.

_What._


	2. But can I answer

Yuzuru had dealt with many strange customers during the time he had worked in the coffee shop.

There had been one man who had asked for coffee without coffee beans (it turned out to be a strange misunderstanding), an old lady who had made a fuss about the whipped cream not being a perfect spiral (that had taken a long time to correct), and a student who had wanted to buy all of the cherries they had in stock (apparently for an experiment, but he had no idea what kind of experiment would require that many cherries).

This was the first time someone had come up to him and asked for something that the store didn’t even offer.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Mapo tofu, please,” she repeated in an emotionless tone.

He blinked at her. “We don’t serve that here.”

She blinked back at him. “Oh.”

She didn’t move from her seat; an awkward silence stretched out between them.

He cleared his throat. “Would you like to order something else?” He laid a menu in front of her and gestured to it.

She stared blankly at the menu. After a few moments, she looked back up and pointed somewhere on the menu without even looking. “I would like that.”

He looked at where her finger was pointing.

It was in between the rows that listed the food names.

“You’re pointing at blank space.”

She looked down. “So I am.” She paused.

She shifted her finger down. “I would like that.”

He looked at her selection. It was the coffee cake, a popular selection among his usual customers.

Not that there was anything “usual” about the current individual.

“Coming right up.” He paused as a thought occurred to him. Turning back, he asked, “Would you like anything to drink with that?”

She shook her head.

“Alright then.”

The silence returned as he prepared her order. At such a late hour, the pastries had long since grown cold, so he decided to heat it in the microwave first.

As he watched the cake spin on its plate, he occasionally snuck glances at the figure sitting at his counter.

Compared to the intense stage lights, the lighting in his store was positively dim. As such, her hair did not glow with that unnatural sheen that he saw on television. Her casual clothing, while still making her attractive, did not push her appearance past normal human limits like her formalwear did, making her seem more grounded, more _real_. Her eyes, no longer burning with intensity, held a curious tint as they stared at him–

_Oh crap!_

He quickly averted his gaze.

_I hope she didn’t see me staring._

That would not convey the most favorable of first impressions, for sure.

A loud ding saved him from a self-induced panic as the microwave announced that the pastry was ready. As he retrieved the coffeecake, he also grabbed a glass and filled it with water.

“Here you go,” he said as he placed her order and the water in front of her. “The crumbs get stuck in your mouth if you don’t have something to wash it down with.”

She blinked at him. “Thank you,” she said softly.

She ate in small, quick bites, pausing at times to sip the glass of water.

Yuzuru fidgeted awkwardly as he watched her eat. With conversation seeming unlikely, he scanned the shop for something to do.

A shadow in the corner of the room caught his attention. On further inspection, the black shape turned into a tall, lithe girl wearing a long, black scarf who had been standing in the corner all this time.

He blinked in surprise. “Can I help you?”

The girl stared back wordlessly.

He stepped forward. “Would you like a snack, or perhaps a drink?”

The girl’s stare intensified until Yuzuru felt sweat trail down his back from the heat of her gaze. Her hands shifted in the folds of her dark cloak, allowing the light to glint off a sharp edge that looked suspiciously like a knife.

He backpedaled in a hurry. “I’ll take that as a no.”

As he wondered whether he should call the police to report an armed intruder in his store, a voice interrupted his thoughts.

“That’s Shiina. She’s my escort.”

He glanced back at the pianist, who had spoken. “Escort? I suppose that makes sense . . .”

Celebrities often attracted attention while walking in public. Reporters, zealous fans, and the paparazzi all seemingly conspired to hunt down any famous figure that took so much as a step outside.

Without support, it was all too easy for a celebrity to fall prey to an eager mob and end up being detained for hours on end.

“Can one girl hold back an entire crowd of people?” he wondered aloud.

He immediately regretted his decision as he felt the death glare on his back intensify once more.

“She’s very good at her job. Comparable to a hundred men, even,” the silver-haired girl quietly said before returning her attention to her food.

As the oppressive aura behind him faded, its owner mollified by the compliment, he decided to not press the matter further. “That’s pretty impressive.”

Silence fell once more, but with that initial icebreaker (unintentional as it was), he felt emboldened enough to continue.

“So . . . uh . . .” he began sheepishly.

She continued to eat without paying him any attention.

“I saw you on TV earlier today.” he blurted out.

She glanced at him for a moment before dismissing him.

“I thought you were really good,” he finished lamely.

She paused. “Thank you,” she murmured before resuming.

She did not follow-up on his probes at conversation, but that she responded at all was a victory in his book.

He wondered how many more such feats he could achieve that night.

_Or maybe I should stop now before I annoy her._

She must already get plenty of attention due to her status as a celebrity. Anything he said would likely be dismissed as the insincere prattling of another fan who only cared about her talent and fame.

A sinister voice whispered in his mind. _Why are you even trying? She’s clearly out of your league. Don’t even bother . . ._

But even as his inner doubts combined with his hidden apathy and depression to dissuade him, an unbidden image rose in his mind.

Of a tiny, delicate girl, standing all alone on an empty stage.

There was something inexplicably sad about that scene, an air of melancholy that clung to it like mist.  Sentiments that his desire to help simply couldn’t ignore.

So once again, he reached out to the girl.

“Anyway . . . what are you doing in my shop?” he asked.

She tilted her head at him. “Do you wish for me to leave?”

“What? No!” He flailed his arms around in a placating gesture. “I just meant – I didn’t think someone as famous as you would visit a shop as obscure as mine.”

“Oh.” She took a sip of water. “Smaller shops have fewer people. I wish to avoid crowds, which is why I chose the smallest nearby shop.”

“Ah, I see.” He scratched the back of his head. “Having people recognize you all the time must be a real bother.” His expression grew worried. “I’m not bothering you, am I?”

There was a pull in his heart, a strong aversion to leaving this girl alone. But if she wanted him to stay away, to maintain a professional distance between them, then he would respect her wishes.

She stared at him with a scrutinizing gaze as she took another sip from her cup. Slowly, deliberately, she set it back down.

“I don’t mind.”

It was so sudden that he couldn’t quite process the statement. “Huh?”

“I don’t mind speaking with you,” she said.

Inwardly, he sighed in relief. “Well, that’s good. I would be a poor host if I made my customer uncomfortable.”

She didn’t respond, but he noticed that her eyes seemed to occasionally dart towards him, that her body was ever so slightly more angled towards him, and that her emotionless voice no longer seemed quite as chilly.

He smiled. “So, what made you think a coffee shop would serve Mapo tofu, anyway?” he asked in a light tone.

He wasn’t quite sure, but the barest hint of red seemed to appear on her cheeks.

“I . . . do not go outside often,” she confessed.

He blinked. “Surely, you would still be able to identify different types of shops?”

She glanced away. “I never . . . had much need to. I did not have many opportunities to go outside during my childhood. My . . . family had a butler who attended our every need. But he fell ill a few days ago and has yet to recover, so I must take care of myself for the time being.”

He nodded. “I see,” he said. “It must be hard on your family to lose someone so important for any period of time.”

“I suppose so,” she said dully.

A brief silence settled over them, one all the more suffocating due to the dour mood the recent conversation seemed to have put the pianist in.

He changed the subject. “So, did you like the coffee cake?” he asked nervously.

She glanced down, as if just noticing that she had polished off the last bits of her meal. “It was good.”

But despite her words, her tone held no excitement, none of the enthusiasm one would normally have after eating a delicious meal.

_Let’s see if we can change that._

“There’s a restaurant that specializes in Mapo tofu near here,” he said. “If you want, I could guide you there.”

Her eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise. “Is it crowded?” she asked hesitantly.

He frowned. “There’s not a whole lot of people that are obsessed with Mapo tofu, but the ones that are go there pretty regularly.” He grimaced. “There will probably always be at last a small group in there.”

He could see her wavering, one side desperately wanting the treat, the other telling her to avoid too much exposure to other people.

He smacked his palm with his fist as he came up with the perfect solution. “I know! You could just ask Shiina to run over there and buy you some. That way, you don’t have to go yourself.”

She frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What? Why not?”

“Shiina got banned from the last store she went to.”

His eyes slid back to the tall, dark-haired girl standing in the corner. He remembered that sharp glint she had flashed for just a moment and the promise of danger it carried.

Hmm. It might be better if he remained ignorant of what happened. After all, bringing up an embarrassing tale about her would surely draw her ire.

And he would like to keep his limbs attached, thank you very much.

Well, if sending Shiina was too risky, then there was only one option left:

“I’ll run over there and buy some as take-out and bring it back for you, then you can pay me back. How does that sound?” he suggested.

He could see her excitement build, see the faintest traces of a smile creep over her face, and then a finger tapped her shoulder and she deflated.

“It’s time to go,” Shiina murmured.

 He could see her disappointment in the slump of her shoulders, see her withdraw back into herself as she gave up that spark of hope.

_Not on my watch._

“If you come back here tomorrow around the same time, I can have it ready for you.”

She looked surprised by his sudden offer, but slowly, a genuine smile swept over her face.

“Thank you.”

Her voice was soft and mellifluous, not at all what one would consider intense or passionate.

But he could hear her earnest gratitude, her honest happiness at the sight of a stranger going so far to grant her wish.

It warmed his heart, like a comforting bonfire that drove away the darkness of the night.

He felt his own smile widen as he bathed in the glow of his feelings before realizing that he had forgotten something very important.

“Ah! I almost forgot. My name is Yuzuru; what’s yours?”

Her eyes burned brightly, not because of fake, artificial lights, but because her soul was ablaze, caught up in the moment just as he was.

“My name is Kanade.”

_Kanade. It means “to play a tune.”_

A fitting name for a musician. He wondered if it was some irony of fate that his own last name meant “no sound.”

“Kanade,” he said, savoring the way her name rolled off his tongue. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She nodded at him before rising and walking towards the exit. As she left, Shiina flitted behind her before vanishing into the darkness of the night.

He watched her back shrink as she vanished into the city, a speck that was swallowed whole.

He thought to the last time he had seen her figure from such a distance and recalled the sense of profound loneliness that pervaded the image.

But here, it was not the same. Her back seemed a little straighter, her steps infused with just a bit more purpose.

But it was enough. To transform that desolate feeling into a tiny spark of hope that might someday ignite into something beautiful.

He then realized that it was past his normal closing hours and began to frantically lock up. When he got home, weary, he collapsed on his bed without a second thought.

It was only later that he would realize that the night terrors had not visited him that day, that his dark emotions remained undisturbed.

He wondered what that meant.

xxx

“Wait, are you serious? She walked into your store? And asked for Mapo tofu of all things?”

Yuzuru rolled his eyes as his friend collapsed on the counter laughing.

“Laugh it up all you want, Hinata. It won’t change the fact that it happened.”

The next day, the baseball player had dropped by again for another drink and to chat with him.

He had taken the opportunity to tell his friend of the surreal experience he had yesterday.

Perhaps that was a mistake.

“I’m just saying! It’s such a funny coincidence she walked in the day you saw her on TV. It’s like it was fate or something!”

“She doesn’t like crowds, which is why she came so late and why she chose the smallest shop around, which just so happened to be mine.”

“Hear that? Your lack of success was a good thing for once!”

Yuzuru felt a twitch in his left eyebrow.

Hinata, unaware of the irritation he was causing his friend, continued, “So, what did you two talk about anyway?”

The barista crossed his arms. “Not much, really. She had a scary escort following her around, and I learned her name was Kanade.”

“Scary escort? Was there a big, burly man following her around?”

“Actually, it was a tall, skinny girl.”

“You got scared by a girl?! What kind of man are you?”

“I’m sure if you piss Yui off enough, you’ll see just how scary women can be. Maybe I should call her up right now?”

Hinata cringed. “There’s no need for that. Really.” He laughed sheepishly as his eyes nervously darted around the room before homing in on an inconspicuous package in a plastic bag lying on the counter. “Hey, what’s that?”

Yuzuru spared it a glance before doing a double take. “Wait, don’t touch that –”

Too late, Hinata had already opened the bag –

“Mapo tofu? You never told me you liked this kind of super spicy stuff . . .” His eyes widened. “Wait . . . you said Kanade wanted Mapo tofu. Did you buy this just for her?”

Yuzuru couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’m just doing it as a favor.”

“You totally did! Wait, that means she’s coming by again? Dang, you’re a real lucky bastard, you know that? To have a celebrity visit your shop two days in a row! I bet she’s gonna bring in all kinds of customers in for you!”

Yuzuru rolled his eyes. “Somehow, I doubt that. She told me herself that she disliked crowded areas, so drawing attention would be counterproductive.”

“So, it’s just going to be you and her, huh? That’s great! You’ll have plenty of opportunities to make a move on her.”

“It’s not like that –”

“Pshhh, I saw the way you were staring at her on TV. You’re totally into her. And now, you have the chance to act on your feelings! Don’t let this opportunity slip by, you hear me? You need to settle down one day, you know?”

“You’re blowing this out of proportion –”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. Either way, take a good, hard look at your feelings and figure out what _you_ really want. Don’t have any regrets, okay?”

Yuzuru fell silent for a moment. “Figures you would be the one offering relationship advice.” He chuckled weakly.

Hinata grinned. “What can I say? I’m just good with the ladies!”

“Don’t let Yui overhear you, now.”

They laughed together good-naturedly.

“Well, I should get going. Good luck!” Hinata said with a wave.

Yuzuru waved back. “Thanks.”

As the bell’s tinkle signaled his friend’s exit, he felt his hands slow in their work, then stop. The thought of reaching out, of committing to a relationship, was both frightening and tantalizing.

He had already lost a loved one once; he wasn’t keen to feel that crippling sensation of loss again. But he remembered how his attachment had given him a purpose in life, made each day worth living.

Maybe he had a chance –  

_What a load of nonsense. She’s totally out of my league._

He sighed. No matter how well-intentioned Hinata had been when dispensing his advice, it will amount to nothing more than wishful thinking.

He was being helpful to a customer.

Nothing more.

That is what he kept on telling himself, no matter how much his heart yearned to argue otherwise.


	3. I feel my chance is fleeting

Kanade was late.

That was the thought running through Yuzuru’s head as he glanced at the clock inside his café, each movement of the hands making his heart sink a little lower.

Sigh. He was being unreasonable. She had never specified when she would arrive, so expecting that she would show up at the same time as yesterday was irrational.

But no matter how much he told himself that, his heart continued to tighten as the moments passed without interruption.

It was getting late, so if she didn’t arrive soon, then he would have to close and go home. After all, he couldn’t afford to stay up late and risk oversleeping tomorrow.

His income was low enough without missing a day thanks to pining over a visit that might never come.

Several more minutes passed in this fashion, with him periodically glancing at the clock and grimacing each time it reminded him of how late it had gotten.

He sighed. “Well, so much for that.”

He would close shop and call it a day. Waiting in suspense any longer would only keep him up all night.

As he opened the door so he could flip the “Open” sign to “Closed,” he froze in his tracks.

Face-to-face with him was a white-haired girl.

The girl he had been waiting for.

“ . . .”

“ . . .”

After staring at each other for what seemed like an eternity, he finally mustered the strength to open his mouth.

“What . . . are you doing outside my shop?”

“I was debating on whether I should go in.”

“And . . . just why were you hesitating over something like that?”

“ . . .”

He rubbed his eyes as he let out a tired sigh. “Never mind. How long have you been standing here, anyway?”

“About fifteen minutes.”

Hahhhhh, so this girl had arrived around the same time after all.

Except she had declined to come in, so he had worked himself into a panic over nothing.

How troublesome.

He turned back, the task of closing shop banished from his mind. “Well, come on in. You’ll catch a cold if you stand out there for much longer.”

One-by-one, they stepped through, the bell’s musical chimes heralding their entrances.

A chime he would much have preferred to hear twenty minutes ago.

Oh, well. What’s done is done.

“You know, I was starting to think you wouldn’t come,” he said as he slipped behind the counter once more.

“I’m sorry if I made you wait.”

“No, it’s fine. I got worried over an assumption I made, so it’s partly my fault too.”

“Regardless, I should’ve been more decisive.”

“Oh.” He paused as he shuffled nervously. “Well, come have a seat. I got the Mapo tofu just as I said I would.”

He took the container out of the bag and set it on the counter.

Immediately, she perked up at the scent of its delectable, spicy tang.

“How much?” she asked with a hint of impatience.

He named a figure, and she nodded and handed over the money.

“Hmm? You gave me a bit extra.”

He tried to give the excess money back, but she declined.

“It’s a tip for going through all that trouble,” she explained.

He blinked. “It wasn’t a bother at all, really.”

She continued to insist, and he eventually accepted the tip.

As Kanade opened the container, a glass of water slid down the counter and came to rest next to her eager hands.

“You might need that soon,” Yuzuru said with a wry smile.

She gazed at the glass. “Thank you,” she murmured.

She turned her attention back to her food and tore the plastic spoon that had come with the package out of its wrapping.

She scooped the first mouthful into her mouth –

Golden eyes widened.

Her hands became a blur, a well-oiled machine with the sole purpose of scooping as much food into her mouth as fast as possible.

The glass of water remained untouched.

xxx

Yuzuru was utterly baffled.

The girl before him was shoveling food into her mouth so quickly that it was a miracle that she didn’t choke on it.

She didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the super-spicy nature of the food either. The glass of water he had poured for her had yet to be touched.

And at the rate she was going, he doubted that it would be.

While she was enjoying her meal, he busied himself with dishwashing and the other duties he had to tend to.

The café wasn’t going to care for itself.

No matter how much he wished it would at times.

He fell into his familiar routine: washing plates and dishes, double checking his sale records (it had yet to increase despite Hinata’s assertions), and wiping off the chairs and tables while everything else faded into the background.

It was after he was more than halfway through with his duties that he noticed a difference in his surroundings.

With a start, he realized that the sound of Kanade wolfing down her food had vanished. Looking over, he saw that she was daintily wiping her mouth with napkins.

The glass of water was still untouched.

“Are you sure you don’t want to drink any water?” he asked with concern.

Her eyes slid to meet his. They seemed to burn brighter, as if the Mapo tofu had infused her spirit with its spicy fire.

“I don’t need to.”

“Isn’t your mouth burning up right now? How do you stand it?”

She glanced away. “I like the feeling.”

His jaw dropped. “You like it?!”

“Yes.”

He scratched the back of his head. “You have . . . unique tastes.”

She tilted her head towards him. “Do you think I’m strange?”

He frantically waved his hands. “No, no! I’m just curious why you like it so much.”

“It makes me feel alive.”

He paused. “Huh?”

She gazed out the window with a distant look. “Like there’s a fire inside me,” she murmured.

She fell silent after that.

He fidgeted nervously during the lull in the conversation.

_Crap. What am I supposed to say to that?_

Well, when in doubt, change the topic. At least, that’s what his old boss always advised him to do.

_If you can’t find something to say, then change the subject so you can! Number one rule of engaging with the customers is to always be talking!_

“Well, I’ll take that trash for you. I guess you’ll be leaving now?”

She didn’t answer, merely sitting there with a thoughtful expression and making no move to get up and leave.

He paused in his clean up as he noticed her inactivity. “Uh . . . excuse me?”

“I don’t . . . want to leave yet.”

He froze. He had no idea why someone like her would stay any longer than necessary in his dingy shop. “Well . . . I stay open for a while longer, so I suppose there’s no reason you can’t stay.”

Slowly, she nodded. “Thank you.”

They lapsed again into silence. He continued to clean up the store while she remained motionless, a troubled look in her eyes.

He flinched as the floorboards creaked under his weight as he bustled around. Every rustle, every clink, every creak: they all seemed unnaturally loud amidst the stifling silence that had pervaded his diner.

It was maddening.

_Gah, I can’t stand this!_

“So, what’s your family like?” he abruptly asked.

She looked at him with a blank expression. “My parents are dead.”

He flinched.

_Great job, me. Way to pick the one topic that kills the mood._

“Oh . . . I’m so sorry for asking!” He bowed as he continued to apologize profusely.

“It’s alright.”

Her tone did not contain a hint of irritation despite his blunder.

He sighed in relief. “Sorry, again, for bringing that up. My parents died when I was young, and I know that I wouldn’t like it if someone brought it up again.”

“. . . I see.”

He racked his brain for something, anything he could say to defuse the awkward atmosphere that had settled over them like a miasma. He was so distracted that he did not notice the way her fists tightened nor the way she seemed to hunch over the counter.

“Do you remember them?”

A soft voice broke him out of his thoughts.

He snapped to attention. “Huh?”

“Your parents. Do you remember them?” she repeated.

He scratched the back of his head. “Well, it was a long time ago . . . but I can still remember some things about them.” He smiled nostalgically. “Like the way my mom smiled while she was cooking, how my dad enjoyed watching sports, and how they fussed over my grades in school.”

“You miss them . . . don’t you?”

He sighed. “Yeah. I guess I do.” He looked at her expectantly. “What about you? Do you . . . miss your parents?”

She stayed silent for a long time. When she spoke, her voice was tinged with a hint of melancholy.

“Is it strange . . . that I cannot remember them?”

He blinked. “What? Even if your parents died while you were young, surely you must have _some_ memories of them?”

She shook her head. “They never . . . interacted with me very much. They were always very busy . . .”

“Oh . . . well, I guess it’s understandable in that case.” He paused. Then, trying to inject a hint of optimism into the conversation, he said, “At least, you had other family members who cared for you, right?”

She hesitated. “I suppose so,” she said forlornly.

Yuzuru frowned. He could tell that something wasn’t quite right, that there was something more to the matter that she wasn’t revealing.

He wanted to move on from the dreary subject and talk about lighthearted things . . .

But running away from problems never solved anything, did it?

He set down the towel he had been using to wipe off a nasty stain.

“Even if your . . . other family . . . aren’t exactly the warmest of the bunch, you don’t have to rely on them alone. You can find someone else: a friend, an associate . . . just about anyone willing to listen to you. Someone who can act as your anchor and comfort you when you need it. Someone who cries when you cry and laughs when you laugh. Someone . . . who can give you a reason to keep going.”

He could still remember his anchor, that bright sun in his life who was taken away from him far too soon.

But he recovered. Slowly and tortuously, he pulled through. He found something else to live for and friends who dropped by to keep him company.

A luxury that Kanade may not have had.

She remained silent, brows furrowed in thought and a distant look in her eyes.

Suddenly, she stood up and walked away.

She passed by him without a word and went out the door without so much as a farewell.

Surprised by her sudden exit, he could only stare vacantly at her retreating figure as a shadow brushed past him as well.

_Did I mess up?_

He really hoped he hadn’t, but he wasn’t going to bet on it.

Sigh. He really didn’t have much luck in life.

The air conditioner sputtered and died out as if to reaffirm his thoughts.

He felt a sudden urge to strangle whatever god out there was in charge of luck.

xxx

The god of luck must have a grudge against him.

That was the only possible explanation for his recent string of bad luck.

He wondered if he should find the nearest shrine to offer his prayers (complaints) to the deity, but he doubted that it would change much.

Gods help those that help themselves.

A saying that his old boss had been fond of.

“Well, how am I going to deal with this?” he mused.

It was late. He had checked his sale records before closing up shop, and what he saw was not reassuring.

“My rent payment is due soon, and with numbers as low as these, I won’t be able to make it without tightening my belt.”

It was a cycle he had grown used to by now. Whenever his sales dropped a substantial amount, he had to cut down on his expenses to meet the rent. Usually, it was enough to simply cut down on entertainment costs for a while, such as cable for the TV. However, when the slump was particularly bad, he reduced expenses in other areas as well, such as food and clothing.

Unfortunately, this time seemed like it would be one of the worse slumps, so he would be bored and just a tad bit hungry.

Not for the first time, he wondered why he was running a coffee shop just as likely to earn him a loss as it was to earn him a profit.

Oh, right. Because he had never finished school, and there were few people willing to hire a dropout like him.

Also because the shop held a great deal of sentimental value for him, and it wasn’t much worse than the other low-end jobs he could have gotten.

“Nothing else to do but tough it out.”

He had considered advertising to increase his revenue, but ads were expensive in this day and age. Hiring people to stand outside his shop to draw in customers wasn’t cheap either, and he didn’t want to risk going into the red just for the possibility that he might recoup his loss with some bonus.

He would play it safe. As long as nothing drastic like the rent increasing occurred, he should be fine, right?

“I really hope the god of luck wasn’t paying attention to what I just thought.”

Because with the way his luck was going, his landlord would bang on his door the next morning and tell him that his bills had just gotten a lot larger.

But there was no way that would happen, right?


	4. If you choose to give your heart away

Yuzuru wasn’t sure what to make of the scene before him.

He was standing before a large, worn building. The reddish bricks had long since faded to white, but the lettering denoting the structure as a community center remained unmarred by the passage of time. Pairs of windows lined its sides, like eyes into another world.

It was a place he frequented quite often; he visited almost every week on his day off to offer his help.

Today had seemed like it would be no different than his other visits . . .

Until he saw someone unexpected standing in front of the building.

Facing him was a young, white-haired girl wearing a wide-brim sun hat. However, the hat was so comically large that it ended up covering most of the girl’s face.

A pale hand pushed it up, and golden eyes stared out at him from beneath its brim.

 “Oh, it’s you,” Kanade said.

He gazed back with an unimpressed look. “I thought you didn’t like crowded areas.”

“I don’t like attention. But I’m in disguise, so I won’t draw any attention.”

He glanced around. Contrary to her claim, several of the people passing by were giving her odd looks as they walked past.

However, none of them recognized her.

_That’s clever. They pay so much attention to the hat that they don’t spare any for the girl underneath._

And even if someone did look closely, the hat obscured her face enough that she wouldn’t be recognized at a glance.

“Isn’t it hard to see where you’re going with that on?”

A glaring flaw in an otherwise effective yet simple disguise.

“I let Shiina guide me,” she replied.

He turned to the black-haired escort who stood by her charge, as diligent as always. She was fidgeting relentlessly, uncomfortable standing out in the open.

“Was this your idea?” he asked.

Her eyes darted to him. “She posed the problem; I provided a solution,” she said with a hint of finality in her voice.

Wisely taking the cue, he turned his attention back to Kanade.

“So, what are you doing here anyway?”

 “I’m here to volunteer.”

He couldn’t help but be startled. “Huh? Someone like you? Volunteering?”

She tilted her head at him. “Is there something wrong with that?”

He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Well, no. But aren’t you too busy to be spending your time doing this kind of work?”

He had heard stories: tales about musicians practicing for hours on end every day to maintain their skill. If that kind of dedication was necessary to be successful as a performer, then he didn’t think that she should waste her time here.

“This is just something I want to do in my free time,” she said in an unconcerned tone.

He hesitated. She had sounded confident in herself, and surely, she would know better than himself how much practice she needed to keep her edge, right?

In that case, he would let it drop.

“Oh, Yuzuru! I’m so glad you’re here; the kids will be so pleased you came!”

A young woman with chestnut hair walked out of the building. Her hair was already greying and stress lines crisscrossed her countenance, but even though her body was aged, she stood tall and smiled brightly.

She looked curiously at Kanade, completely failing to recognize her. “Oh, are you here to volunteer too?”

The girl nodded.

“I see.” The woman sighed. “Unfortunately, the event today involves looking after a group of children. And we can’t just let anyone walk in and do that, you understand? So, I’m afraid that you’ll have to come back later after you’ve gone through the proper channels and gotten a background check.”

Kanade quietly took it all in. “I see.”

She turned and walked without a word.

He could tell she was trying to hide it, but years of experience interacting with others had honed his skill at picking up on subtle cues. He could see the disappointment in the sluggishness of her footsteps, the droopiness of her head, and the limpness of her arms.

“Wait.”

He wasn’t sure why he spoke up, but the retreating figure paused as the woman turned to him.

“Hmm? What is it, Yuzuru?”

“That girl . . . she’s with me.”

Kanade seemed startled, and the woman’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh? This is the first time you’ve brought someone else along with you.”

She looked at the girl with a contemplative gaze. “Now, normally I wouldn’t allow this. But you’ve been volunteering here for a long time now, Yuzuru, and I trust your judgment.” She turned to gaze at him intensely. “I hope you know that you’ll be responsible for your friend’s behavior.”

“Of course.”

He expected nothing less.

She nodded. “Well then, you two can go on in then. If you keep the kids waiting too long, they might develop fangs and come after you!” she said with an easy grin.

The two of them walked in, although it would be more accurate to say he walked in while dragging along a statue by the arm.

Kanade was still a bit shocked by his sudden aid, it seemed.

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” he asked.

She blinked at him, vitality finally creeping back into her frozen features. “No, I haven’t.”

Now that she had regained her composure, he let go of her arm and focused on leading the way to the children’s room. He had gotten lost in the twisting, narrow hallways the first time he came here.

Yuzuru sighed. “Than what’s with the sudden interest?”

A pause. “I did something . . . similar . . .  a long time ago,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow. “Something similar?”

She nodded. “Doing it . . . made me happy. I wanted to try and . . . capture that feeling again.”

He was curious about what this similar “something” was, but he felt that it would be rude to pry.

“Why did you help me?” she asked suddenly.

He scratched his head idly. “I just like to help people.”

Not the whole truth, but it sounded far better than the alternatives.

“Oh,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

“It was no problem. Really.” He turned to her with a slight grimace. “Anyway, you know we’re here to look after the kids, right? Well, we’re also supposed to help entertain them; so just play along with whatever they come up with, but don’t let them get into trouble, alright?”

She nodded. “I understand.”

He grunted. “Good.”

They walked in silence after that, neither of them quite knowing what to say.

With nothing to distract him, Yuzuru found himself intimately aware of how _close_ she was to him. Walking side-by-side in a narrow hallway, their hands had brushed each other several times, and he was startled at just how _cold_ her hands were.

He was struck by a sudden desire to grab her hands in his to warm them up –

_No! Bad thoughts!_

He sighed internally. Even though his job required him to talk with many kinds of people, he had always felt detached from each of his patrons. With a counter separating him from his customers, he always felt like there was a barrier between them, a reminder that his guests had their own lives, their own worlds that he would never be a part of.

But here, without that professional detachment and artificial distance, he found that he was feeling oddly flustered by her presence.

“Are you okay?”

His gaze snapped to the one who had asked the question.

Kanade’s clear, golden eyes gazed into his own.

“Your face is all red,” she commented.

He rapidly waved his hands in front of him. “I’m fine. Really!”

She looked at him with an unconvinced expression. “If you say so.”

She turned away, and an awkward silence fell upon them once more.

_Gah, what’s wrong with me!_

He was relieved when they finally reached the door to the children’s room.

He gave Kanade one final, quick look.

“Remember, just play along and don’t let them get in trouble, alright?”

“Ok.”

He twisted the doorknob, and the door swung open with a loud, noisy creak.

Dozens of faces immediately turned to regard them.

“Hey, Yuzuru! Glad to see you showed up!”

He could only blink in surprise as a purple-haired girl waved at him while a group of children crowded around her.

“Yuri? What are you doing here?”

She grinned. “Well, you know I’ve always liked kids. But my job isn’t all that great in allowing me to have some fun with these cute little buggers, so when you told me about what you usually did on weekends, I thought that I might as well give it a shot!”

She turned to glance at Kanade. “Oh, who’s that? Your girlfriend?”

He doubled over in a coughing fit.

“What?! What made you jump to that conclusion?!”

She grinned at him mischievously. “Well, I’ve never seen you in the company of another girl before. What else was I supposed to think when you suddenly showed up with a cute girl?” She peered at Kanade more closely. “Gotta say, you sure have strange tastes. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone who takes their girlfriend out to volunteer for a date!”

“We’re not dating! I didn’t even know that she would be here!”

“Oh? Well, that’s a shame. I know your shop can be so dreary at times when I’m not around to spice it up. If you were seeing someone, you wouldn’t be so lonely at times!”

He inwardly winced. He had never spoken of his problems to anyone, but Yuri had hit closer to home than she probably realized.

“Anyway . . .” she turned towards Kanade. “I’m Yuri! I would go over there to shake your hand but . . .” She gestured towards the kids surrounding her. “I’m a bit preoccupied right now.”

“Do that scary voice again, Miss Yuri!”

“That was so cool! Could you teach me how to do that?”

“Play with us!”

Kanade inclined her head in greeting. “I’m Kanade,” she said softly.

In such a loud room, her reply would have been inaudible to most people.

But Yuri was not most people; she had developed quite a sharp ear during her time in the courtroom.

“Kanade, huh?” She grinned. “I hope we get along!”

Yuzuru sighed as the two girls finished exchanging greetings.

He hoped that Yuri didn’t do anything too crazy with the kids.

“Alright, Kanade. Why don’t you –”

His suggestion was left unfinished as the crowd of children finally noticed him.

“Look, it’s Yuzuru!”

“Yay, he’s back!”

They rushed forward, swept him up, and carried him off in the blink of an eye.

Kanade blinked. One moment, Yuzuru had been standing there. The next, he had vanished along with a sizable portion of the children.

Struck by uncertainty now that the one who had guided her here had disappeared, she simply stood there and watched as the children began to make increasingly bizarre requests of Yuri.

A gentle tug on her hand drew her attention.

Glancing down, she saw the bright, pudgy face of a twin-pigtailed girl stare up at her.

“Nee-chan, want to play?” she asked innocently.

Kanade was startled. She glanced at the other side of the room, where Yuri had begun doing backflips, much to the children’s amazement.

“Don’t you want to play with the other kids?” she asked softly.

The little girl shook her head. “They’re all so noisy! I don’t like it when everyone is yelling,” she said with a pout. She looked at the older girl pleadingly. “We have a room with a lot of books! But the other kids don’t want to read with me . . . so could you?” she asked hopefully.

Kanade looked at her impassively before smiling gently. “I think . . . I would like that.”

“Yay! Come on, let’s go!”

As the little girl pulled her along, Kanade thought back to the many books she had read during her stay in the hospital.

She wondered if the community center would have any books on gardening.

xxx

Yuzuru was panting so hard that he felt as if his legs would give out at any moment.

“These kids . . . play as hard as ever . . .”

Yuri laughed. “Tired already, Yuzuru? The game’s not even over yet!”

He chuckled weakly. “I think I’ll . . . have to sit the rest out. I’m heading back inside.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll keep an eye on these kids, so don’t worry.” She walked back to the group of kids. “Now, who’s ready to commence Operation Beat-the-Snot-Out-of-the-Other-Team?”

A wave of cheers was cut off as he closed the door that led outside. He took a deep breath as he leaned against the door for support.

_Kids can be scary at times._

They had relentlessly dragged him around playing different games all day. After pulling him outside, they had started off playing frisbee, then they had moved on to soccer, then to baseball, then to football.

Even as various kids came and left depending on which game they were playing, they had expected him to stay for all of them.

Yuri had led some of the girls into joining at some point, but by then, he had already felt fatigued.

There were still a few hours left, so he could find a less strenuous activity to engage in with some of the less athletic children –

A string of notes echoed down the hallway.

He perked up as the sounds reached him.

_They had a piano in here?_

He had a pretty good idea as to who was playing, and he figured that he should check up on her since he _was_ responsible for her being here.

Slowly, he walked forward in an almost trance-like state. And before he knew it, he had found the room where the music had originated from.

She had taken off her sun hat at some point. The electric keyboard she was sitting at was not in good condition: scratches marred its surface, several of the knobs had fallen off, and stains covered several of the keys.

But even if the piano was ugly, the music it created was beautiful all the same.

The song was chirpy, filled with short beats and dancing notes. Her fingers bounced from one key to another with vigor, never remaining still for long. A crowd of children had gathered around her, all of them enraptured by the melody that had captured their attention.

He couldn’t blame them. He knew full well how _intimate_ her music could be, how it could stir emotions long lost in the depths of one’s soul.

The song ended, and cheers rang out as all the kids enthusiastically complimented her.

She was looking his way, he saw. As he walked towards her, she brushed some of her sleek, silver hair aside as she greeted him in a cool and emotionless tone.

“Yuzuru.”

He nodded and smiled. “That was great. What song was it?”

She looked away. “It doesn’t have a name.”

He was briefly taken aback. “What? How could it not have a name?”

She stared at him blankly. “I came up with it a few minutes ago.”

He blinked “Oh.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Improvisation, then? That was good for something you came up with on the spot! How many of your performances have been songs that you composed?”

“A few.”

“They must have received quite the positive reception, then!”

“Actually, the turnout for them was much lower.”

He was taken aback. With a talent as great as hers, he could not fathom why people didn’t appreciate her original compositions as much.

 “Well, that’s a shame,” he said. “Judging from the bit I just heard, you can write some beautiful songs. It’s a pity that more people won’t hear them.”

She did not reply; she merely sat there with a melancholic expression on her voice, a desolate look that did not suit someone like her, someone who could bring happiness and joy with simple gestures of her hands.

He crouched down next to her. “Hey.”

She turned to him with murky eyes, some deep melancholy clouding their golden hues.

“I’m sure you’re disappointed that your work didn’t receive the credit it deserved,” he said with a smile. “But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t have value! You brought happiness to these kids, even if it’s only for a little while. You did it with something that came out of your heart, something you poured your soul into making. If you can confidently say that you created something that brought joy to another person, then isn’t that something that anyone can be proud of?”

Slowly, ever so slowly, her lips turned upward into a small smile. The clouds passed, and her eyes shone like a dawning morning.

“Thank you for your words,” she whispered.

He was about to respond, only for a small figure to tackle him from the side. At the same time, the other children clamored for him to “stop distracting the nice lady so she can play some more!”

Kids could sure be demanding at times.

xxx

“Thank you both so much for your help today! The kids had a blast.”

“Oh, it was nothing! I had fun too,” Yuzuru replied.

They were standing in front of the community center once again. The woman in charge was thanking Yuzuru for helping them out (again) while congratulating Kanade for doing such a “splendid job” during her first visit. A few of the kids had gathered to say their farewells as well, and he noticed that one of them seemed intently fixated on a point pass him.

“Thank you for playing baseball with us!”

“Yeah! It was a lot of fun!”

“It was really funny when you tripped but still caught the ball!”

He grinned sheepishly as the children regaled him with some of his more embarrassing exploits during their games. He saw that the girl he had noticed earlier had remained silent; instead, she was just staring straight ahead.

His eyes slid along her line-of-sight, and he realized that she had been staring at Kanade all this time.

The woman noticed this as well and gently nudged the girl. “Go on, say something to the nice people that came today!”

The little girl was startled by the sudden gesture. She looked down as she collected herself, then glanced back up with large eyes full of passion. “Thank you for coming, Nee-chan! You’re really nice and cool and I like listening to you read in your pretty voice! I hope you visit often because I would rather spend time with you than with the other kids! They’re all really noisy and mean!”

“Now, now, don’t say that about your peers,” the woman lightly chided.

“But it’s true . . .” the little girl grumbled.

Kanade looked taken aback by the sheer amount of praise that had just been thrust upon her. “Ah . . . I’m glad that you enjoyed yourself.”

The little girl hopped up and down in excitement in response.

Yuzuru sighed. Although he was glad they were getting along, it wouldn’t be healthy for the girl to be cut off from the rest of the children.

He smiled gently as he crouched down next to the girl. “You should try to spend time with people your own age, you know? It’s not healthy if you spend all your time with adults.”

She pouted at him. “But grown-ups are so much nicer and cooler than kids!”

“Trust me,” he said. “Even grown-ups can act like kids at times.”

As if to punctuate his statement, a pinked-haired blur ran past in the background, pulling a mop of blue hair behind her.

“I’m gonna do a German suplex on you, and you’re gonna LIKE IT!”

The duo passed, and Yuzuru had a hunch that he had just missed something crucial, something that would have been very useful to use against a certain someone that came by his shop frequently.  

Oh well. It couldn’t have been that important.

“Well, we should get going! See you later!” He waved at them.

They waved back, several of the more energetic kids waving both hands wildly while some of the more timid gave small waves.

“Have a nice day!”

“Come back sometime, Nee-chan!”

He grinned at that parting comment. “Sounds like you’ve made a new friend.”

Kanade nodded but remained silent.

The silence stretched out for a little longer before he noticed that something was off.

“Hey, where’s Shiina?”

She looked over their surroundings but found no trace of the black-haired girl.

“She must have gotten distracted by something,” she concluded.

Yuzuru sighed. “Some escort she is, leaving her charge all alone.”

“It’s fine. I can get home on my own.”

“Are you sure? It’s getting kind of late. I can walk you home if you want?”

She paused, thinking over his offer.

“Okay.”

“Oh! Uh . . .” He scratched his back sheepishly. “Alright, then.”

He hadn’t been sure that she would accept his offer, but he was glad she did.

She turned away and walked at a brisk pace, leaving him scrambling to catch up.

As he finally matched pace with her, he gathered the courage to ask the burning question that had been nestled in the back of his head for the past few days.

“By the way . . . did I offend you somehow the other day?”

She tilted her head at him curiously. “What gave you that idea?”

He shrugged. “You kind of walked out abruptly. I thought I must have done something rude to make you leave like that.”

“I see,” she said. “No, I did not take offense to anything you did.”

He furrowed his brows in confusion. “Then why did you leave so suddenly?”

“I realized that it was getting late and that I had to return home soon,” she replied nonchalantly.

He felt a twitch in his eyebrow. “Normally, in a conversation, you would inform the other person if you suddenly had to leave.”

She blinked. “Oh.” Her eyes dropped. “I’m sorry.”

He sighed. “No, it’s fine. It was just a misunderstanding.” He glanced at the oversized hat that she had put back on at some point. “So, now that you have your ‘disguise,’ I take it that you’ll go visit that Mapo tofu shop yourself now?”

Kanade stopped in her tracks. He watched as her expression turned vaguely uncomfortable as she considered the idea.

“I . . . suppose,” she said reluctantly.

It was obvious that she was averse to the idea.

He knew that he shouldn’t be happy about someone else’s weakness, but he found himself relieved all the same.

Because now he had an excuse.

“I wouldn’t mind . . . if we kept the same arrangement we had before,” he said.

She looked at him with a hint of wonder in those bright, golden eyes. “You would do that for me?”

“It’s not a big deal. I have plenty of time on my hands.”

“In that case, I will accept.”

They walked in silence after that, but it was not an uncomfortable type of silence.

No.

It was the silence that came about between two people who did not need words to express how they were feeling at that moment.

They both knew the other was satisfied with the result of their conversation, even though they were not entirely sure why.

But it was enough for them to be content, to keep moving towards the future with a new hope in their hearts.

Kanade stopped in front of a large house, its extravagant design clearly meant to display the owner’s wealth. She turned and bowed to him.

“Thank you for escorting me.”

He smiled. “It was nothing. I’d be happy to do it anytime.”

She nodded in response before turning and walking towards the house.

Yuzuru watched until the moment the sliding door closed behind her.

xxx

Omake: What REALLY happened to Shiina

Shiina watched impassively as Kanade disappeared into the building.

She was no stranger to waiting for long periods of time as her charge went about her business, but she did find it to be tedious at times.

She _would_ practice her craft in the meantime, but for some reason, whenever she brought out her scissors, people’s eyes would begin to unerringly home in on her.

It was quite irritating. How could she call herself a ninja if people could spot her effortlessly?

After the fifth time she tried to practice only to draw concerned comments along the lines of “it’s dangerous to play with scissors,” she gave up on the endeavor.

She was about to resign herself to another long, boring wait when something caught her eye.

“Puhi puhi!”

A small, brown, and furry creature trotted up to her. It had small, beady eyes, a large nose, and short, stubby legs. It rubbed itself against her legs and looked up at her with a pitiful expression.

“Puhi puhi!”

She crouched down and stared at the creature intensely.

Seemingly satisfied that it had gotten her attention, it turned around and began walking away.

“Puhi!”

Had her gaze been any more intense, there would have been a line seared into the ground, its path just happening to match the trail of the tiny creature.

It turned around and seeing that she had not followed, let out a small, plaintive whine.

“Puhi~”

She couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“CUTEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

She vanished from her spot.

The small animal vanished a moment later.

A few minutes later, a confused, purple-haired girl walked onto the scene. She looked around with a worried expression.

“I could have sworn she was around here somewhere . . .”

Another girl ran up, panting for breath. Her appearance was similar enough to that of the first girl that they could have been twins.

“Don’t worry . . . I’m sure she’s okay . . . wherever she is,” she said in between her pants.

“I hope you’re right,” the other girl murmured.

The next day, her pet returned safely.

They didn’t quite know why there was a pink bow on her head nor why her expression was so blissful.


	5. Put it in my hands

They had settled into a routine after that day.

It was not something they had planned out. Rather, it was something that had arose due to sheer repetition.

In the morning, he would pick up supplies, set up shop, and do whatever else needed to be done before he opened for the day. From then on until well into the afternoon, he would serve whoever came by to visit his shop. Sometimes one of his regulars would come and he would chat with them for a while.

In the evening, once the chance of someone coming in became almost nil, he would stop by a certain shop and pick up some Mapo tofu. (He had asked her at one point if she wanted to add any seasoning to it, and she had told him to add anything that made it spicier).

(She had seemed especially pleased the next day).

Then he would return to his own shop and busy himself with whatever tasks still need to be done.

She always came around the same time.

He had come to anticipate it: that moment when the sun ducked under the horizon, when the fading sunlight fled from the streets, leaving behind only a warm glow.

When the bell rang to signal her entrance, it sounded different than when it heralded the arrival of anyone else. For her, its tinkle seemed more harmonious, as if it knew she was a musician and that it should perform better for one who spent her life creating such beautiful sounds.

He always left the package in the same place, and she always sat down in the same spot. He would busy himself with cleaning up and other chores he needed to do after a day’s worth of work, such as tallying up costs, recording the day’s sales, and other bookkeeping activities (Hinata constantly ribbed him about how his numbers barely grew, if they did at all).

But he found that he didn’t mind.

After all, they were what led him to meet _her._

He considered low sales a small price to pay to have an angel’s comforting presence in his shop. She never greeted him when she sat down; instead, she would tear into the package with a single-minded determination he didn’t think anyone could possess for something as mundane as food.

While this might seem strange to some, for them, it was a form of mutual understanding.

They already knew what the other felt, so what need was there to express it in words?

Time would slowly trickle by in this fashion, with nothing to break the silence except for the clink of a spoon on a bowl and the clatter of glasses and plates being reorganized.

“So, how was your day?”

He would open with this question after she finished eating.

They would aimlessly talk about the little things that happened during their day; she would comment on new songs that she was learning, and he would tell her of the antics of a customer that came in that day.

It was all idle chatter, but he found these regular conversations to be comforting. They brought a feeling of vitality and warmth into his shop at a time when it usually remained barren aside from himself.

Eventually, night would fall, and she would give him a brief nod before getting up and leaving. He would wave, and sometimes she would turn around at the door to return the gesture. Over time, he got used to her tendency for silent farewells.

He found that he didn’t mind her taciturn nature very much; considering some of the more . . . demanding customers he got during the day, interacting with someone who didn’t expect much from him was a welcome relief.

It all felt very natural and simple: he didn’t have to wrack his brain looking for something appropriate to say like he did with so many others. There was no pressure, no expectation from the other person that he was trying to live up to.

He could just relax and let the words flow naturally.

Of course, not all her visits were the same. He had tried to engage with Shiina again during the first few visits. She had rebuffed him each time until she had finally relented and allowed him to do something for her.

_He glanced over at Shiina, who had remained quiet in her corner all this time._

_“Are you sure you don’t want anything?”_

_Annoyance flashed across her face before a more contemplative expression appeared._

_“I would like a broomstick.”_

_He blinked as his train of thought was derailed._

_“You want . . . to buy my broomstick?”_

_What was it with people coming into his store to order the strangest things?_

_First cherries, then Mapo tofu, and now a broomstick._

_At least the first two were actually food items. He wasn’t sure what gave the girl the idea that he was a convenience store now._

_Shiina looked irritated. “I want to borrow your broomstick.”_

_Oh. That made . . . slightly more sense._

_It still didn’t make a whole lot of sense since he had no idea what she wanted to do with his broomstick._

_Maybe she was going to sweep the floor?_

_That would be the most obvious scenario, but he would feel bad if he let her do it._

_After all, it shouldn’t be the guest’s duty to care for the host’s domain._

_“Ah, do you want to sweep the floor? You don’t need to worry about that; I can maintain the store just fine on my own.”_

_Her eyes narrowed dangerously, and he began to sweat from the intensity of her murderous gaze._

_“Just. Give. It. To. Me.”_

_Well, if she wanted to do it so bad, then he should probably comply before he suddenly became a human pincushion._

_He rushed to his storage room, the heat of her gaze spurring him on. He grabbed his broom, an old but well-cared-for tool that he had been using since the day he started working there._

_Shiina’s stare relaxed as he offered it to her like a knight presenting his sword to his queen._

_She took it without a word and stalked back to her corner._

_As he watched in bemusement, she flipped the broom upside down and set the tip of the handle on the underside of a finger._

_She held it in that position for a moment . . . then . . ._

_She let go._

_“Hey, it’s gonna fall –”_

_Yuzuru stopped, his face slack in astonishment._

_Because balanced on that girl’s finger was his upside-down broom, its form so motionless that it reminded him of a skyscraper, towering and immobile._

_While he stood slack-jawed in amazement, the girl pulled out a pair of scissors and balanced it just as easily on another finger._

_“Bring me your mop.”_

_His mouth clicked shut. “Huh?”_

_She glared at him. “I told you to bring me your mop.”_

_He didn’t bother arguing this time. He rushed back to his storage room and came back with the requested item._

_She snatched it out of his hands without even looking and added it to the growing collection of tools balanced on her fingers. She held that pose silently, her gaze locked onto the items she held so precariously._

_“Don’t worry about your mop and broom.”_

_His gaze snapped back to Kanade. “What?”_

_She looked at him with an unflappable expression. “Shiina never drops an item.”_

_He slowly swiveled back towards the black-haired girl._

_“Is that so,” he murmured._

_He stared at Shiina for several minutes, but she did not make so much as a twitch during that time. The only way he could tell that she was still alive was the way her eyes constantly darted between the items she held._

_“Bring me a screwdriver.”_

_He sighed in resignation at her expectant gaze towards him._

_This girl really thought that he was a convenience store, didn’t she?_

xxx

“What’s it like, performing for so many people?”

It was an innocent question, one that might have come up in any casual conversation with a person who performed for a living, but Kanade seemed to shrink in on herself when he asked it.

They were sitting in his shop, following their usual routine. Yuzuru sat at the counter with his arms folded, having finished cleaning platters and cups. Across from him, Kanade sat, nursing a cup of coffee.

He frowned in concern at her sudden silence. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

She looked away. “It’s nothing . . . I just . . .”

He sighed before leaning in with a small smile. “If you’re having any troubles, you can talk to me about them. It’s what I usually do during the day anyway. I think some of my regular customers are treating me as a life counselor!” he said lightheartedly.

A certain blue-haired fellow with a hyperactive girlfriend came to mind. Why, just the other day, he had to dispense advice on how to “make amends with a girlfriend whose favorite guitar you broke.”

He had no idea how to deal with something like _that_ , so he told his friend to take the beating and move on.

Last he heard, said friend was confined to a bed because his entire body felt like one giant sore.

Yeah. He hadn’t expected him to take the advice so literally.

Hopefully, Kanade’s troubles wouldn’t be quite so . . . dangerous.

She looked at him hesitantly. “Oh . . . well . . .” She paused as she collected her thoughts. “I always feel it. Every time. The sensation of hundreds of eyes staring at me. Watching me. It’s enough to make my gut churn. It makes me want to freeze up or run away,” she confessed.

He raised an eyebrow. “Stage fright?” he asked in surprise. “Are you having trouble with your performances because of it?”

She shook her head. “I always practice enough that I don’t have to concentrate too much on the song to play it flawlessly. But feeling that every time I perform is . . . unpleasant.”

He leaned forward. “Has it gotten better over time? Are you slowly adjusting to it?”

“No . . . I don’t think so. It makes me just as nauseous as before.”

“Is that so? Well . . .” He frowned as he pondered this issue. “What about when you performed for smaller groups of people?”

She glanced at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, it sounds like the sheer volume of people is what’s causing you distress. How did you feel when performing for smaller groups, like that time you played for the kids at the community center?”

She gazed off into the distance thoughtfully. “. . . I felt fine.”

He smiled as a solution seemed to apparently make itself known. “In that case, then try to do that more often! Starting small then working your way up should allow you to get used to it over time.”

“But . . .” she said with an uncertain expression. “How can I do that? I can’t control how many people come to my concerts.”

“Can’t you sell fewer tickets or something?”

“I don’t think the one in charge would do that for such a silly reason.”

“Don’t call it a silly reason,” he gently chided. “It’s a problem, and it’s a good thing that you acknowledged it.” He frowned. “But, you’re right. Others might not see it the same way.”

He furrowed his brows in thought. “Couldn’t you ask the people who live in your house to watch you play?”

“They are far too busy for me to trouble them with this. Besides, I am used to them being there all the time.”

“Hmm, what if you practiced somewhere else with more people?”

“Like where?”

“Uh, a music hall, perhaps?”

She blinked at him. “I’ve played in every music hall in this city. I would draw a crowd just by going there.”

“Oh,” he said sheepishly. “I guess that would defeat the point of not having a massive audience form.” He furrowed his brows in thought. “Do you know anyone who has a keyboard you could use? Someone who would also be willing to act as an audience.”

She shook her head. “No, there’s no one.”

Yuzuru rubbed his chin as he pondered this dilemma. If she didn’t know anyone who fits the bill, then maybe he did? He knew Yuri had a lot of connections; maybe one of them owned a piano and was willing to be discreet. He was on good terms with the woman in charge of the community center he regularly volunteered at, and he knew they had a keyboard (banged-up though it may be), but she was typically quite busy, and he didn’t want to trouble her with any more issues. Hinata was a baseball player, but wasn’t his girlfriend in a band or something –

His face lit up. He had found the perfect solution.

“If I had a keyboard in here, would you be willing to use it for practice?” he asked. “I would be able to act as your audience, although I am only one person.”

She looked at him thoughtfully. “I would . . . but you don’t have a keyboard,” she pointed out.

“Not now,” he said with a grin. “But if things go well, then I might have one soon.”

She looked at him curiously. Slowly, a small smile graced her face.

“I look forward to it.”

He smiled back. “So do I.”

xxx

“You want to know . . . what?”

Yuzuru rolled his eyes. “I want to know if Yui has a spare keyboard in storage.”

Hinata narrowed his eyes at him. “And just why do you want to know that?”

“Because if she does, I want to ask her if I can borrow it and set it up in my shop.”

“And just what would you do with it? Last I knew, you weren’t exactly a musician.”

“Who said I would be the one playing it?”

Hinata looked at him in confusion. Slowly, his eyes widened as the pieces clicked into place.

“Wait . . . you managed to convince Kanade to play in your shop?!”

Yuzuru shrugged. “Something like that.”

“That’s amazing! You know tickets for her concerts sell out super-fast, right? If you’re over here dispensing her music for free, you’ll gonna have people pouring in like crazy! You might actually make a profit for once!” He leaned in and whispered conspiringly, “Hey, since I’m your best buddy, reserve a seat for me when this happens, alright?”

He pushed his friend back. “You make me sound like I’m just using her to make money.”

Hinata glanced back innocently. “Well, aren’t you?”

He scowled. “No. In fact, I’m doing this as a favor. Not as a publicity stunt.”

“A favor, huh? Well . . .” Hinata took another sip of his coffee. “If the favor also happens to make you money, then that’s pretty good too, isn’t it?”

“She only comes by in the evening when no one else is around, so I highly doubt that people will be drawn in from her playing.”

“Really? Well, that’s too bad. Maybe you should ask her to change her schedule.”

Yuzuru sighed. “Look, I don’t care about the potential for profit. I’m just trying to help a friend here.”

“Is that so? In that case . . .” Hinata gulped down the rest of his drink and slammed the cup onto the counter. “I better do my job as a friend and hook you up with Yui!”

The baseball player froze in the midst of getting up. “Wait. That came out wrong.”

Yuzuru just barely resisted the urge to facepalm.

xxx

The door to his shop slammed open.

Now, Yuzuru was used to the door being slammed open by a certain purple-haired customer, so when he saw a mop of pink hair walk in instead, he was briefly confused.

“So, I hear you needed my help did ya?”

Oh. Right.

“Hey, Yui,” he said with a smile. “I’m Yuzuru. Hope you don’t mind doing a favor for someone you don’t really know.”

Yui waltzed up to the counter “Ah, don’t worry about it. The keyboard was just collecting dust in the storage room anyway.” She plopped herself down with a mischievous grin. “So, this is where Hinata goes whenever he needs comforting?”

She stuck her head forward, causing him to reflexively take a step back.

Her eyes peered into his own intensely.

“I don’t know what charms you used to bewitch Hinata to come running to you for help . . .” She poked him in the chest with a finger. “But I won’t lose to you!”

“It’s not like that!”

The door slammed open again (he really should reinforce it before it broke), and Hinata stood there, panting for breath as he cradled an electronic keyboard under one arm and held a stand in the other.

Yui glared at him with a huff. “Oh yeah? Then just what is it, then?”

Hinata chuckled nervously as he trudged inside with his burden. “I just come here sometimes to ask Yuzuru for advice. That’s all!”

As she looked at him skeptically, Yuzuru stepped forward to relieve the exhausted man of his burdens.

“Then why didn’t you come to me for advice? I’m great at dispensing advice!” she said with a pout.

Hinata’s smile froze on his face. “Well . . . some things . . . you just gotta talk about with another guy, you know?”

The baseball player tactfully refrained from mentioning what exactly he usually asked the barista for help with.

“That’s just crazy talk!”

As the two of them bickered back and forth, Yuzuru set up the keyboard near the back of the shop. He was thankful for how easy it was; all he had to do was unfold the stand, set the keyboard on top, and plug it into an outlet.

He turned the keyboard on and played a few notes at random.

They were barely audible over the sound of the bickering in the background, but the notes sounded fine to him.

It would do.

He turned back to the other two people in his shop.

“Gah! You’re gonna snap my neck, you crazy witch!”

“Serves you right for seeing a boy in secret!”

He blinked at the scene in front of him. For some reason, Yui was sitting on Hinata’s back, straddling him. She was pulling back on his head with both hands while he clutched at the ground with his hands.

“Owowowowow okay how about this I’ll invite you to come along whenever I come here I’ll even treat you to coffee just let go please FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!”

Yui let go.

Hinata’s head snapped forward and hit the ground with a crack.

Yuzuru inwardly winced at the sight.

The perpetrator of the unconscious body on the ground rose and strutted back towards the counter with a smug expression, uncaring of the destruction she had just wrought.

“Wow, there’s so many different types of coffee! They all sound so fancy!”

Yui was looking over the menu with a hint of childlike wonder. Her eyes darted from one item to another, unable to decide on one.

“I can help you pick one out if you like,” Yuzuru said. “But, uh . . .”  He gestured towards the limp body on the ground. “Is he going to be okay?”

“Huh? Oh, him.” She waved towards her boyfriend dismissively. “He’s a tough cookie! He’s survived worse.”

“I . . . see . . .”

Yuzuru really didn’t want to know what she meant by “worse.”

“Hey, this drink sounds pretty cool! One Caramel Frappuccino please!” She pointed at the item in question.

“A good choice if you have a sweet tooth,” he replied.

“Hah, I knew it would be sweet! Anything with caramel in it has got to be sweet!”

He chuckled at her exuberant behavior. “Well, since you’re letting me borrow your keyboard, how about I give you a discount on anything you purchase here? I’d feel bad if I didn’t offer anything in return.”

Her eyes lit up. “Discounts? Sweeeeeeeet!” She turned around. “Hear that, Hinata? I’m getting discounts at your favorite coffee shop!”

A muffled groan was the only response.

She turned back with a grin. “See, he’s excited too!”

Yuzuru laughed at the couple’s antics. There was just something endearing about the way the two interacted with each other.

And if Yui really was going to come with Hinata whenever he visited, well . . .

He had a feeling his shop would be a lot livelier in the future.


	6. I won't break it

Yuzuru considered himself a very lucky man.

After all, not many could boast that they could listen to a famous concert pianist play for free.

Granted, it was mostly rough and unhewn pieces instead of the finely polished songs she played at performances . . .

But he had a feeling she could do something as bland as playing through the scales of all the keys and still make it sound beautiful.

“Did you think that song was good?”

The lingering sounds of the notes faded away as Kanade paused in her practice.

“I don’t know a thing about music, so I can’t give you a detailed answer,” he said. “But if you will settle for something short and sweet . . .”

He smiled at her. “I think that anything you play sounds wonderful.”

She turned back towards her instrument. “That isn’t very helpful.”

While her words might imply a hint of annoyance, her tone lacked any venom, and he could see faint tinges of red on her cheeks.

She was pleased by his comment, that much he knew.

“I’m sorry that I can’t do more to help you overcome your stage fright,” he said.

“No, it’s fine,” she insisted. “I didn’t expect much, anyway.”

They had discovered during the first few visits Kanade came to play on his newly set-up keyboard that she had grown accustomed to his presence as well.

Which made the entire exercise of him acting as an intimidating audience for her pointless.

But, even though the main reason for coming to his café to practice was void, she still came here every day to do so anyway.

He had asked her about it, to which she replied that she “liked playing here.”

He had just mentally shrugged and accepted her simple reasoning.

As the days had gone by, he had gotten to know her well. She was not someone who expressed herself easily, which belied the sheer amount of emotion and passion she put into her music.

It was like she never learned how to express herself when she was younger and relied solely on her music as her emotional outlet.

As he turned back to his work, he noticed that the music had not resumed. When he glanced over at her, he noticed that her hands remained still, frozen in place.

“Yuzuru,” she began.

“Hmm? What is it?”

Her hands drifted to her lap. “You said you often gave advice to your customers, correct?”

“Well, more like a few customers in particular, but yes.”

She stared at him. “I would like some advice.”

He was startled. “Oh! Well, I’m not sure how much help I can be, but I’ll give it my best shot.”

She nodded.

“What should I do if I don’t want to do something, but everyone else wants me to do it?”

His hands stilled in their work. Slowly, carefully, he set down his tools.

For a question like this, he would need his full attention.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked.

She glanced away. “I don’t want to be a concert pianist,” she clarified.

That revelation surprised him.

“Is it because of your stage fright?” he asked softly.

Kanade wrapped her arms around herself. “Not just that. Whenever I play in a concert hall, it always feels so . . . cold.”

“Cold?”

“Like everyone was just waiting for me to slip up.”

“I see.” He rubbed his chin as he pondered her dilemma. You don’t like the atmosphere during your concerts, then?”

She shrugged, uncertain of her predicament herself.

He sighed. “Well, if you ask me . . .” He sat down on a stool and leaned back. “You should do whatever makes you happy.”

“Whatever makes me happy?”

He nodded. “Indeed. Life is too short to spend any amount of time in misery. You should try to enjoy yourself!” He leaned forward.

“Do you know what makes you happy?”

She nodded, slowly, imperceptibly. It was the barest dip of the head.

He smiled in satisfaction. “Well, there you have it then. Pursue your happiness with no regrets, and I’m sure you’ll be content at the end of your life.”

He turned back to his cleaning, leaving Kanade to mull over her thoughts.

She looked down at the plastic keyboard; it was a cheap, relatively inexpensive thing. She had played on grand pianos that had likely cost a thousand-fold more than it.

But it was here, in front of this mass-produced machine that she found the most enjoyment.

She reached out and softly caressed the plastic keys on the electric piano.

“When I play here . . .” she whispered. “It always feels so warm.”

The shop was small, and her audience was only one person: a sharp contrast to the packed concert halls that she was used to.

But there was a connection here that could not be found with the public masses, a feeling of intimacy and understanding that could not be sustained without a sense of closeness.

“When I play here . . .” she murmured. “I feel happy.”

She looked up; Yuzuru had not paused in his work, still scrubbing away as diligently as ever. Ever since she had walked into his shop on a whim so long ago, she had rediscovered buried feelings that she never thought would surface again.

She wanted to keep on experiencing it, to continue to thaw her heart, frozen from years of strict, unrelenting performances and lack of personal connections.  

She hoped that these carefree days would last.

xxx

“Oh, Yuzuru~!”

A cheerful voice he knew all too well called out. Today had been one of the slower days, so there were very few other customers in the shop.

But even so, he hoped she didn’t cause too much trouble this time.

“Hey, Yuri,” he greeted her. “You seem awfully chipper today. Something good happen?”

“Didn’t you hear? The biggest rival to my firm just got into the biggest scandal of the century!” She cackled. “Wanna see? I’m sure the video got uploaded somewhere . . .”

As she pulled out her smartphone and browsed the web, he began brewing her favorite drink ahead of time. He had no doubt she intended to splurge to celebrate her firm’s rival’s misfortune.

“Found it! Here, take a look at this.”

She shoved the phone into his hands. On it, a video was playing. Although the audio was muted, through the subtitles that scrolled past, he gleaned that several of the law firm’s partners had been caught embezzling funds, which resulted in their subsequent dismissal from the firm. Apparently, these lawyers had been some of the firm’s most successful practitioners, and the reporter detailing the case speculated that losing so many of its finest at once would greatly hurt the firm’s ability to compete with others.

“Huh. Wonder why they felt the need to steal from the firm if they were already so successful?” he wondered out loud.

“Who knows? All I know is that I’m in a great mood now, and I have a great need to celebrate!”

He chuckled at her boisterous antics. “Alright, alright. Your usual, coming right up.”

As he exited full-screen on Yuri’s phone and moved to hand it back to her, several of the videos on the sidebar caught his notice.

Under the “recommended list,” were a few videos of Kanade playing at a concert.

Yuri caught his intrigued glance and soon realized what he was looking at. “Oh! After you introduced me to her that other time, I always thought she looked familiar. So, I did some digging, and lo and behold, Kanade is the famous concert pianist who goes by ‘Angel.’ I watched a few of her past performances, and I’ve gotta say, she’s pretty good.”

She winked at him mischievously. “A real catch if you ask me. Don’t let her get away now!”

He blushed at her insinuations. “I already told you it’s not like that,” he muttered.

“Anyway, I hope you’re ready to roll up your sleeves and get your hands dirty.” Yuri clapped her hands and suddenly, her usual posse of co-workers and assistants came barging in. “Because you’re about to make a profit today!” She grinned at him.

He chuckled good-naturedly as the orders came rolling in. Even though she was a headache to deal with at times, he knew she was just trying to help him get by.

“Coming right up!” he shouted.

xxx

Yuzuru hummed softly to himself as he approached the door to his apartment. Kanade had visited at the usual time, and he had gotten to enjoy her music and chat with her again.

He had found himself feeling rather upbeat as of late; he had no doubt that it had something to do with the beautiful girl who regularly visited his shop. His heart felt lighter just by being in her presence, and he found that the dark thoughts that usually plagued him had all but disappeared.

“Maybe she really is an angel who healed me with her divine magic,” he muttered to himself jokingly.

As he unlocked the door to his apartment and stepped in, he felt something crumple under his weight.

“Hmm? A paper?”

Bending over, he picked up the paper that had been slipped under his door and read it.

Instantly, his good mood vanished.

“What?! You’ve got to be kidding me!”

It was a notice for a hike in the rent.

Hmm. Didn’t he have an off-hand thought about something like this happening not too long ago?

Now he _really_ wanted to strangle whatever god of luck was watching over him.

His eyes scanned the page rapidly, desperately hoping that this catastrophe wasn’t as bad as it looked . . .

He slumped against the wall and sank down.

Yeah. No.

It was worse than he thought.

The landlord was raising the rent by _7%_!

He still occasionally had to make sacrifices to pay the rent at the original price! With such a large increase, he would have to find a cheaper apartment to live in.

Unfortunately, there were few apartments near where his shop was, and the one he lived in now was the cheapest of the bunch.

Which meant he would have to look for an apartment that was further away.

Sigh. Looks like the commute time just got longer.

Which meant that his sleep time just got shorter.

What a pain. He would have to devote several of his weekends to scouring for a new apartment too.

He wasn’t looking forward to the upcoming month.

xxx

“Are you okay?”

He blinked owlishly at the one who voiced that question. “Hmm? Oh, I’m totally fine. Really.”

Kanade had an unimpressed look on her face. “Are you sure?”

Huh. Were the bags under his eyes really that obvious?

He had stayed up late for several nights, doing research and asking around to find the most optimal apartment to move into.

Unfortunately, his search had yet to bear fruit. Many of the other apartments nearby were simply out of his price range.

However, he didn’t want to let his personal troubles interfere with the time he spent with Kanade.

So, he mustered up the liveliest smile he could. “I’m perfectly fine. Trust me.”

“You’ve been washing the same plate for the past five minutes.”

He looked down and sure enough, the plate in his hands was sparkling clean.

Almost _too_ clean.

Huh. Was he really that tired?

She looked at him with a worried face. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no, it’s nothing. I just –”

As he tried to protest that everything was okay, he felt himself sway and stumble.

He heard the loud **scrape** of a chair being pushed back and felt two arms not his own steady him.

“You should sit down,” Kanade said as she gently plucked the plate out of his hands and set it on the proper rack.

 “Yeah – h, maybe I should . . .”

She guided him to one of the many vacant tables in his shop and sat him down, then took her own seat next to him.

Normally, her close proximity would’ve flustered him a great deal, but right now, he was too tired to care.

“If you’re having trouble with something, you can talk to me about it,” she offered. “It’s the least I can do after you’ve helped me so much.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at her statement. “Hah, I never thought I’d see the day where one of my own customers played counselor for me instead of the other way around.”

She remained silent, simply staring at him with those gentle, warm eyes.

Under the assault of her earnest look, he felt his resolve waver.

“I’ve been looking for a new apartment recently,” he confessed.

She tilted her head in confusion. “Why?”

“Because the rent for my current one is increasing, and my income hasn’t increased enough to compensate,” he explained. “So, I need to find a cheaper place to stay.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, I have yet to find a good candidate that is both nearby my shop _and_ within my price range.”

Kanade looked thoughtful for a moment. Then, she nodded.

“I think I have a solution,” she declared.

He thought his eyes would bulge out of his sockets. “What?!”

How could she come up with a solution within a few seconds, when he couldn’t do the same over the course of several days?!

“You can stay at my house,” she said.

His mind halted.

“Huh?”

“You can stay at my house,” she repeated.

As his mental faculties returned to him, he considered her proposal. He had been to her house before, so he knew that it was nearby, and he figured that whatever rate she charged him would be far more generous than any landlord.

“How much do you want for rent?” he carefully asked.

“You can stay for free.”

He felt his jaw drop. “What. Really?!”

She looked confused by his surprise. “I have no need of extra money.”

Oh. Well, that was true, he supposed. But it was still rare to find such generosity in this world.

“What about the . . . other people who live there?” he asked.

“The butler is on sick leave. And Shiina won’t mind.”

His gaze darted to the dark corner where the taciturn girl stood just in time to see her offer him an indifferent nod.

He sighed and looked back at the girl who had offered to fix all his troubles in one smooth gesture.

Truly, she was a perfect angel.

He smiled. He wanted to accept her offer, not just because of how convenient it was . . .

But also because he wanted to be closer to her, this girl who had come into his life like a storm and stolen his heart.

There was only ever one choice, really.

“Well, in the face of such a generous offer, how could I possibly turn you down?”

xxx

The first thing he noticed about Kanade’s house as he stepped inside was just how _big_ it was.

Then again, compared to his dingy apartment, any building would seem large in comparison.

A grand staircase dominated the entrance room, its smooth steps elegantly displayed like a work of art. Doors were littered around the room, each hiding yet another room filled mysteries to discover. Tall, majestic pillars supported the building, each a symbol of pride and dignity.

“Yuzuru?”

Startled, he returned to his senses. Kanade was looking at him curiously, already halfway up the stairs, and Shiina had disappeared somewhere.

“Sorry, I got distracted.” He hefted his luggage and resumed following her.

After climbing the stairs, they passed through several hallways and corridors before stopping in front of a nondescript door.

“You can use this guest room,” Kanade said as she pushed open the door.

Looking inside, he could see it was rather plainly furnished, with only bare necessities such as a bed, a dresser, and a closet.

But that was okay. It was plenty good enough for his needs.

“My room is just down the hall,” she continued, pointing in the direction she indicated. “And if you need Shiina, just call for her and she’ll reply.”

He frowned, finding that a little strange. “How does she always know if we need her? This place is so big!”

“She just knows,” Kanade said.

Huh. Well, he supposed he could just accept that. “Well, where is her room, anyway?” He figured that he might as well pop in later to greet her since he would be living here for the foreseeable future.

Kanade paused. “I don’t know,” she confessed.

He raised an eyebrow. “How do you not know where your own bodyguard lives?” he asked, somewhat incredulous.

She shrugged. “It’s never been important before. Do you have any other questions?”

“Yeah, can you point me to the kitchen? I’m feeling a bit peckish.”

She nodded and gestured him to follow her. As he was led through several more twisting corridors, he made a mental note of the directions he was taking so he wouldn’t have to ask for help later.

“It’s right here,” she said, gesturing in front of her. “If you need me, I’ll be in the living room, which is right over there.” She pointed.

“Gotcha.” He paused. “If you’re hungry, I’m making sandwiches if you don’t mind something simple,” he offered.

She froze as she made to leave. After a moment of consideration, she nodded in acceptance before resuming her movement.  

His stomach rumbled as he made his way into the kitchen; the late nights he had been so fond of lately often left him burned out and hungry in the morning. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much time for breakfast in the morning, so he often ended up fighting hunger pangs throughout the day.

Well, now that he no longer had to worry about finding an apartment, it was time to resolve that issue.

He hummed quietly to himself as he worked. He had learned how to cook early in his life due to the death of his parents and the resulting need to take care of himself and his sister.

A sandwich had been the first thing he had learned how to make. It was simple, yet nutritious.

He didn’t think he could manage anything more complex with how exhausted he was.

As he allowed his hands to lose themselves in a familiar routine, he felt his mind drift to his current situation.

_I never thought I’d ever get to live in a house this fancy._

Of course, he never thought that he would ever become friends with a famous pianist either, but that was beside the point.

However, he couldn’t help but feel that there was a palpable feeling of . . . emptiness in the house.

From what he could recall, only three people were present here on a typical day.

One of them was out due to sickness.

One of them had a habit of disappearing and not showing up unless she was needed.

And thus, one of them was left . . . all alone.

And with a house of this size, its grand, empty halls must have only exacerbated her loneliness.

It was no wonder she visited his shop on a regular basis. If he came home every day to this kind of suffocating atmosphere, he would want to delay his return as much as possible too.

In fact, why would Kanade live in such a large house in the first place? It’s not like she needed the extra space when there were so few residents.

Hmm . . .

“Hey, Shiina,” he called out.

“Yes?”

A voice behind him.

He spun around, and Shiina was there, looking as quiet and unassuming as ever.

“Wah? How did you get here so fast?”

She purposely ignored his question. “Did you need me for something?”

“Oh, well . . .” He trailed off as he collected his thoughts. “I was just wondering why you and Kanade lived in such a big house. It seems rather excessive.”

She was silent for a long time, making him think he might have said something wrong.

“Not that I think it’s a bad thing!” he hurriedly clarified. “I just thought it was a little weird.”

“There used to be more people who lived here,” Shiina said at last. “If you want to know more, ask Kanade.”

“Ah . . . I suppose that’s true.”

She nodded and spun around, ready to take her leave.

“Wait!”

She paused.

He held up one of his finished sandwiches. “Want one? I don’t know if you’ve eaten yet, but . . .”

A moment of hesitation.

The sandwich disappeared from his hand.

After blinking in confusion, he noticed that Shiina had disappeared too.

He chuckled. “That’s just like her.”

He turned back to his work, now with a burning question that he hoped to get answered.

xxx

“Do you like it?”

Kanade sniffed the sandwich she held in her hand before she took a small bite, chewing slowly and swallowing.

“It’s good.”

He smiled. “Glad you think so,” he said before biting into his own.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, allowing themselves to appease the worst of their hunger first. He thought the atmosphere would be awkward; after all, he had never been inside Kanade’s house before (in fact, he had almost never been invited over to a friend’s place before).

But surprisingly, it felt natural.

Just like any other day.

No, that wasn’t right. It didn’t feel like any other day.

Sitting here with her, he felt more comfortable than before. Perhaps it was because it had been so long since he had eaten with another person. Perhaps it was because of the strange attraction he had felt towards the girl all this time.

Perhaps he was reading too much into this, and he should stop daydreaming and finish his sandwich soon. Kanade was almost done and he was barely halfway finished.

Kanade raised an eyebrow at him as he took massive bites out of his food. With the help of some frenzied chewing and quick swallowing, he finished just as Kanade daintily wiped her lips with a napkin.

“Do you find your own meals to be that tasty?” she asked without a hint of sarcasm.

He couldn’t help but burst out laughing at that statement.

As she looked at him with confusion, he choked out his response. “No, no, I was just trying to finish quickly. Didn’t want you waiting up for me,” he clarified.

“I see,” she murmured quietly.

Silence descended upon them once more as Yuzuru debated how to best bring up the issue at hand. Should he be blunt? Or maybe he should be more discreet about it? Maybe –  

“You want to know why I live in such a big house.”

He blinked in surprise at just how accurately she had guessed his thoughts with that blunt statement. Maybe Yuri had been right when she claimed women had intuition bordering on the supernatural.

“Wait . . . how . . .”

“Shiina told me.”

Oh. Well, that made sense.

“Well, yes,” he said awkwardly. “It probably seems like a weird question, so you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

She didn’t say anything for several minutes. When she did, it was in a quiet voice, as if she wasn’t sure if she wanted to be heard.

“Do you remember what you said to me? About finding an anchor.”

He turned to her with a curious expression. “Yeah? What about it?”

“I think . . . that I know what mine is.”

He smiled. “Really? That’s great! But . . .” he frowned a little. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You said an anchor is someone I could confide in.” She looked at him resolutely. “And that is what I am doing right now.”

He looked at her in confusion for a few moments. Then, he felt as if the world had frozen as he realized what she meant.

Oh.

She meant _him._

She had picked _him_ to be her anchor.

“Ah – h – h, well, I’m honored that you picked me,” he stammered out as a raging blush overtook his face. “But are you sure –”

He was cut off when she held a finger to her lips to gesture him to be quiet.  

“You also said an anchor is someone who listened to me when I need someone to talk to,” she said. “So, just listen.”

He could only nod his head mutely.


	7. And now I look back

_On the day she was released from the hospital, it was raining._

The doctors had wanted to keep her for longer, still not convinced that her heart had mended. But that day was the day of her parents’ funeral, and it would be remiss of the daughter to not be present.

Her parents had been heavily involved in the business world. Even before her ailment, they didn’t spare much time for her due to constant meetings and phone calls competing for their attention. The only thing she could recall was the faint feeling of a hand awkwardly patting her head, a rough ministration by one who had no idea how to comfort a child.

Then she had been stricken with heart disease; it had made itself known with a constant pain in her chest that tore at her as if something were trying to drill through her body.

“A genetic disorder,” the doctors had said. “Treatment will be a long and hard road, but it is doable.”

After her parents heard that, even those small, tender moments were gone forever.

They never visited. She didn’t know why at the time; all she could feel was the longing of a child for her parents’ love.

Now, she would never know for sure. But she suspected that they saw her as a failure, as a mere burden to be shouldered for pretense’s sake.

Even though she had been bedridden, society mandated that she be educated if possible. And so, her parents had hired tutors for her to learn basic skills and knowledge, for the day where she might be part of society again (she had never thought the day would come).

Denied of most interactions with the outside world, she had craved those sessions where her mentors told her of the many wonders of the world: of how their planet was only one of many, of how famous people invented the marvels they still used today, and of how the inner workings of their world still baffled even the greatest minds.

Her treatment progressed steadily. They gave her something to dull the pain in her chest and other medication to begin the arduous process of healing her heart.

In the beginning, she was not allowed to overly exert herself. They had feared that the smallest strain placed on her heart could be fatal. But after it seemed like her treatment was working, that her heart was indeed on the mend, she had been allowed to walk outside.

She never knew how much she missed the feeling of the sun on her cheeks, the feeling of warmth that spread throughout her body as she basked in its glow.

Years passed in this manner. A continuous cycle of tutoring sessions, treatment, and whatever methods of entertainment she could scrounge up in her free time (she convinced a few of her tutors to bring her books once she had grown tired of watching the TV in her room).

When the doctors had informed her that the treatment was almost finished, that she was almost fully recovered, she had allowed herself to hope. That once she was discharged, her parents would return, and they could finally be a proper family.

However, it was not meant to be.

It was during one of those tutoring sessions where her teacher had been telling her of one of the darkest periods in human history that she received the news.

Her parents were gone. Killed in an airplane crash while en route to one of their meetings.

She never even knew them.

And now, she never will.

The tutors had stopped coming after that. With no one to pay them, they had no reason to continue.

There were a surprising number of people at the funeral, a sea of figures wreathed in black, blending together so much it was difficult to discern individuals. She did not recognize a single person, nor did she see anyone who could potentially be considered a relative. 

Strangers came up to her to offer their sympathy, but not a single one of their words reached her heart. She had nodded at them in return, completing the ritual of strangers offering each other empty platitudes for the sake of appearances.

She did not remember much of the service, only that people took turns speaking hollow words about what they knew of her parents in life.

She could still recall the glares at her back, the whispers about “that cold-hearted, ungrateful child who cannot even shed a few tears for her parents!”

 _I’m sorry!_ she wanted to cry aloud. _I’m sorry that I can’t do what you ask me to!_

She tried. She tried so very hard, to move her heart, to cry for her parents like a proper daughter should.

But no matter how hard she tried, her eyes did not water.

No matter how hard she leveraged her emotional ties, her heart remained unmoved.

No matter what lengths she went to, the result was the same.

She couldn’t do it.

And before she knew it, the ceremony was over.

As the others began to leave, she collapsed to her knees in front of the grave that now marked her deceased parents.

How cruel of fate, to rip open another hole in her heart so soon after the previous had finished healing.

But this hole did not have the sheer intensity that the last one did, did not burn in her chest like a hot coal in a furnace.

No, this hole was a dull throb, an emptiness that tinted the world in shades of grey.

Rain continued to pour relentlessly around her, uncaring of her troubles and worries.

They say when it rains, God is crying.

So what did it say about an angel, when something that could make God himself weep could not make her stony heart so much as shudder?

xxx

She was consigned to one of Japan’s many orphanages.

It was to be expected. With no relatives to take her in and no family friends familiar enough with her to do the same, there was no other place for her to go.

She felt no small amount of trepidation from the decision. After all, she had lived in isolation for most of her life, having little to no contact with children her own age.

Now, she was about to be dropped into a den full of kids she didn’t know, and she would live with them for the foreseeable future.

She didn’t think the stress her thoughts were causing her was good for her newly recovered heart.

The building was a squat, ugly thing. White paint peeled off the walls, shingles hung haphazardly off the roof, and weeds ran rampant through the front yard.

“Oh, welcome! Is she another one?”

The elderly matron was a spark of life in the otherwise drab establishment. With a bright, colorful dress and an apron emblazoned with a pink heart, she seemed to exude a pure aura of friendliness and happiness.

As her driver explained the circumstances, she could only marvel at the old woman who carried herself with a certain vigor that belied her old age. It felt as though there were a field around her that drew others in, a sense of safety and comfort that naturally pervaded her very being.

It was with a start she realized that the door had clicked shut behind her. This was it. This building was to be her home now.

The kind, old lady smiled down at her. “Why don’t we go introduce you to the others?”

She could only nod meekly in response.

As they walked through greying hallways, she could see more signs of life appear. A hand-drawn poster here, a few balls scattered there, a spill in the hallway just up ahead –

The matron sighed. “Those two started fighting again, didn’t they?”

They gingerly stepped around the puddle and entered the next room.

The room was spacious, tables and chairs scattered throughout it. Children sat at the tables, about a couple dozen of them. The vast majority of them seemed to be on the younger side, with a few older children here and there.

A pair of boys were staring each other down across a table, rage evident in both of their expressions. A spilled cup laid on the ground near them, unnoticed by both.

“Why do you have to be so stubborn all the time?!” the black-haired boy snarled.

“I wouldn’t be so stubborn if you weren’t so much of a jerk! You pushed me just because I said no!” his brown-haired opponent replied with equal venom.

“Boys!” the matron’s strict voice cut straight through the argument. “I don’t know what the issue is this time, but whatever it is, it can wait until after lunch.” She gestured towards her. “We have a new friend joining us.”

She bowed. “My name . . . is Kanade. I . . . hope to get along . . . with all of you.”

Murmurs ran through the lunchroom: some commented on her appearance, some wondered where she came from, and some touched upon a variety of other topics.

The black-haired boy from before scowled. “She’s so puny. I bet she’s a scaredy-cat.”

The older woman scowled in that mildly disproving manner that all diligent parents mastered. “Be nice now! She’s new, so I expect you all to give her a warm welcome!”

Kanade didn’t remember much after that. She recalled receiving food of her own, sitting down, and then being swamped by all the other children.

She could remember them introducing themselves, but their names eluded her, slipping through her hands like so much sand.

She could remember them asking her questions, ranging from mundane inquiries such as her likes and dislikes to more bizarre questions such as whether her hair was silver because she ate a lot of silver rocks.

She could remember her own silence; facing an overwhelming mass of humanity after spending so long in isolation, stoic silence is all she can give them. Eventually, their initial enthusiasm waned and they drifted back to whatever they were doing before, as if they had already forgotten that she had ever existed.

She could not remember what she had been eating; all she knew was that it tasted like so much ash in her mouth.

The rest of the day seemed to pass by in a blur. All she could remember was her failure of a first impression and the poisonous words it had spawned.

“Why would you want to talk to her? Did you see how she ignored us all at lunch?”

 _I didn’t mean to!_ she wanted to say. _I was just too scared!_

But her body had always been treacherous, and this instance was no exception. No matter how much she wished to turn a new leaf, she couldn’t do it.

And after that, it was too late. Most of the other children had already decided what kind of person she was.

She had ignored them.

So, it was only fitting they ignored her in turn.

That night, as she fell asleep amidst the other children, she could not help but feel that nothing had changed, that she was cut off from the rest of the world by factors she could not control.

On that night, she felt her loneliness keener than ever.

xxx

Besides caring for the orphans, the matron took it upon herself to give each of them a rudimentary education.

Reading, writing, arithmetic, history, art, sciences . . . she delved into each of these subjects hoping that it would allow her charges to keep their futures open.

Kanade’s tutors had long since ensured that she had an adequate knowledge in most of these fields, so she had no trouble acing the various assessments the older woman used to test their understanding.

“Eh? Kanade got them all correct again!”

Unfortunately, it did not endear her to the other children.

“What a smarty-pants! I bet she likes showing off!”

She had made no such effort to flaunt her ability, but she did not bother correcting them. No matter what she said, they wouldn’t listen, choosing instead to believe in whatever fabrications of her they had thought up.

It was just another wall, another chasm that separated her from them.

However, there were an earnest few that attempted to bridge this divide: a group of girls that invited her to chat with them.

“You’re so smart! How do you do it?”

She had been hopeful at first: that she would finally make some friends, that this tiny spark of hope would bloom into something more.

But she had always been soft-spoken by nature, and she found it difficult to contribute to a conversation when she was not directly asked a question. Despite their genuine efforts, they lapsed back into their usual group dynamic, a rhythm that had no place for her. She became a mere spectator, an outsider with the illusion of being part of the whole.

After several of these failed attempts, they stopped seeking her out.

She told herself that it didn’t matter, that she was used to being alone.

So why did it hurt so much?

xxx

 The only time she felt alive was during music class.

There was an old, rickety upright piano in the orphanage. Several of the keys refused to be depressed, a faint, moldy odor clung to it, and one of the pedals had snapped off some time prior.

But despite all these flaws, the elderly matron was grateful for its presence and would often thank the anonymous benefactor who had donated it a while back.

“Now then, class. You know what page to turn to.”

Along with the piano, several music books containing simple songs had been given to the orphanage. The older woman made good use of these assets, teaching her charges the basics of singing and leading them in a makeshift choir.

“All together now! Three, two, one, go!”

Her wrinkled fingers touched the keys, and gentle, soothing notes rang out.

_“Si – lent night – ho – ly night –”_

Dozens of voices rose together, an improper ensemble where several members were off-tune, but there was a certain beauty in their earnest efforts to put their all into the song.

Kanade added her own voice to the mix, a soft, angelic tone that was easily missed among the rougher voices of her classmates. But she was fine with that; so long as she could hear herself and the pure notes of the piano, she could imagine a beautiful masterpiece in her mind.

For a time, she could let herself drift away on the river of the rhythm, let those pure notes paint a beautiful landscape for her to gaze upon, and let the soothing melody dull the ache in her heart.

But all dreams must end, and this one was no exception.

“Very good! Many of you have gotten a lot better.”

Reality crashed back down on her, and she was forced to leave the sanctuary of her mind.

As she joined the other children in cheering for their kindly matron, she could almost pretend that she was one of them, an innocent part of the whole.

It was a nice feeling while it lasted.

xxx

And so, the days passed in that familiar cycle: sleeping, eating, doing chores, having lessons . . . the days blended together, each seemingly without beginning or end.

And through it all, she was like a ghost: eating with them, sleeping with them, learning with them . . . but never noticed by them.

On several rare occasions, they would greet other adults that stopped by the orphanage. The matron always told them to be on their best behavior for them because if they did: “You might get to go home with them!”

The visitors would glance over them, but rarely was a child adopted. Whenever it did happen, they would enthusiastically congratulate the lucky child.

She was not sure what to think of the process. On one hand, it was a chance to become part of a loving family, something she had sorely lacked in her own childhood. On the other hand, it was a frightening prospect; she had no idea what having attentive parents would entail. It could be better than her current situation, but it could also be worse.

She decided that being adopted was simply yet another factor out of her control, so she would just let come what may.

For a long time, these infrequent visits were the only thing that disturbed their daily routines, until one day, when the older lady missed a note on a song she had played flawlessly until then.

The sudden dissonance was jarring, and it shocked all the children into silence.

The elderly matron paused and stared at the offending hand, a flash of worry creasing her face while the children voiced their concerns.

She stood up.

“Sorry, dears. But we’ll have to cut this one short,” she said with an apologetic expression.

Cries of disappointment rang out, but the woman’s soothing words soon eased their discontent.

“We’ll have a longer session next time to make up for it, okay?”

No one questioned her words, such was the children’s trust in their kindly guardian.

But Kanade had an uneasy feeling, a sense of lingering dread that whatever the problem was, it would not be so easily solved.

She prayed that she was wrong.

xxx

She should have known by now that her prayers go unheeded.

A few days later, their guardian informed them that the doctor said her hand was “sick,” and that meant she couldn’t play the piano for them anymore.

A wave of disappointment rang out, but it was nothing compared to the hollowness creeping into her own soul.

The other children had each other, but she had no one. The matron conversed with her when she could, but with so many other unruly children competing for her attention, the older woman rarely had time for her.

Their music sessions were the only thing she looked forward to in a day, and now even that was gone.

She could already feel the tendrils of despair clutch at her feeble heart.

That night, when the other children had all gone to bed, she slipped out and crept into the room that held the piano.

She was not sure what had compelled her to do so. Bathed in darkness, the vague outline of the piano only served as an unpleasant reminder that its music would never again fill the halls.

It would just sit there, untouched and unused, wasting away in this dusty old room.

She thought that sounded like an awfully lonely end for an instrument that could make such beautiful music.

The white keys stood out in the night, their shimmering surfaces beckoning to her. She felt drawn forward, an inescapable desire urging her on.

Soon, she found herself on the seat that the matron had sat on so many times before. One hand delicately rested on the ivory keys, their smooth surfaces roughened by years of use.

In a faint corner of her mind, she could hear a tiny voice telling her to not do it, that she should not disturb the others with her selfish desires –

But she couldn’t help it.

She pressed down.

A single note rang out.

It was just a simple, individual note. There was nothing special about it.

But to her, it was something beautiful, and the idea that she could make something so beautiful captivated her.

“Had trouble sleeping?”

Startled, she glanced towards the doorway. Standing there with an amused smile was the elderly matron.

The older woman walked into the room and glanced sorrowfully at the piano. “You missed it too, then? I don’t blame you. I had a lot of fun playing for you kids.” She gazed curiously at Kanade’s position behind the instrument.

Kanade remained silent, uncertain as to whether she should be apologizing.

“Would you like to learn how to play?”

Kanade blinked. She couldn’t have heard right.

The matron laughed softly at her bemused expression. “Is it that surprising? I miss those sessions as much as you do, and I know that the others miss it too. If I can’t play, then the next logical step is to have someone else do it.” She tilted her head at her. “Am I wrong?”

Kanade paused, hesitation written across her face. “Is . . . is it really okay?”

“Of course! I’ve heard you sing; I don’t think I’ve heard anything so lovely. If your playing is even half as good, then I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

“But . . . it would disturb the others.”

The woman smiled mischievously. “Well, there’s a trick to getting around that. Allow me.”

She sat down as the younger girl scooched over to make room. She shifted her feet around under the piano, and with her healthy hand, played a note.

It did not ring out; instead, it was soft and muted, dampened by some unseen force.

“The mute pedal on this piano doesn’t work right; instead of blocking the sound, it merely softens it. But that helps us since it allows us to play without disturbing the sleeping children while still being able to hear ourselves.”

As Kanade looked at the other woman’s encouraging smile and then back at the object of her desire, she felt the last remnants of her hesitation fade.

“Okay.”

The matron beamed. “Just what I wanted to hear! Now, even if I can only use one hand, I can still show you the basics . . .”

Kanade felt something spark in her soul at that moment, like a candle had been lighted within the depths of her heart.

It was nothing but a small flame at the moment.

But even a small fire could keep the darkness at bay.

As the nights passed, she could feel it grow, it’s warmth spreading throughout her body.

For the first time, she felt like she had a purpose in life, something to strive for.

Is this what happiness felt like?


	8. But then I lose track

_“Alright, dears! It’s time for our music session!”_

A wave of confusion washed over the assembled children. One raised their hand and spoke out.

“But . . . didn’t you say you couldn’t play for us anymore?”

The matron smiled warmly. “Who said I would be the one playing?”

She gestured towards Kanade. “Come on, dear.”

Slowly, the young girl stood up and walked towards the piano at the front of the room. She could feel the stares on her back and hear the whispers of conversations that had sprouted up.

All this attention focused on her.

It was a novel feeling.

As she sat down on the bench, the older woman patted the piano. “Kanade has been working very hard so we could resume these sessions. I hope you all remember to show your appreciation!”

Kanade gently laid her fingers on the cool, smooth surfaces of the keys. Their touch brought back the memories of late-night practice sessions, of engraving the rhythm and melody into her very being to be recalled at will.

“I know it’s been a while, but I hope you all remember the drill. Ready? Three, two, one, go!”

She played the first note.

The dam broke, and the rest of the music smoothly flowed from that point on.

It felt like her body was moving on its own, knowing exactly which note happened on which beat without even thinking about it.

Leaving the technical aspect of things to her subconscious, she devoted her waking mind to the subtler aspects: shifting her body to emphasize a specific part, playing just a little louder on another section, and slowing down just a smidgen on the final melody.

She could faintly recall the others joining their voices with her melody into one vast amalgamation of music, a sweeping sensation that wrapped them all up in the heat of the moment.

Too soon, the song ended, and that magical moment passed.

Silence filled the room.

For a moment, she felt a surge of trepidation: that her performance was terrible, that she did not live up to the older woman’s standards, that the other children resented her for this –

Loud applause broke through her thoughts.

The elderly matron was smiling widely at her as she clapped. “That was fantastic! I daresay that it was even better than what you showed me during our practice sessions!”

Looking around, she saw that the other children were applauding as well. A few seemed hesitant, clapping grudgingly because it was expected of them.

But the majority seemed earnest, showing her nothing but honest faces and genuine awe.

“That was so beautiful!”

“Where did you learn to play like that?!”

“Can you teach me how to be like that?!”

“Now, now,” the older woman chided. “We only have one piano, so we can’t have everyone be learning at the same time.” She smiled. “But if we all took turns throughout the day, then I’m sure we could make it work out. Assuming Kanade agrees, of course.”

“Why can’t you teach us like you taught her?” one plaintive voice called out.

She shook her head. “I’m already busy enough trying to teach you all everything you would have learned in school. And I’m glad that Kanade seems to have nothing more to learn from me since I don’t think my old bones could handle many more late nights.” She chuckled good-naturedly.

Kanade felt all their gazes return to her as they awaited her answer. It was a peculiar feeling, being the center of attention. There was something frightening yet strangely intoxicating about it.

Did she want to do it? To take the time to teach them, these strangers who just so happened to live in the same building as her?

A part of her rebelled against the idea, the part that had allowed herself to hope only for it to be dashed against the uncaring rocks of reality.

But she did not want to remain stagnant, did not want to remain in this dark cesspool of isolation.

This was a chance.

So, she would take it.

“Okay.”

Even amidst the silence of the room, her voice was so soft that it was almost inaudible.

“I’m sorry dear, but could you speak up?” the matron asked.

She straightened up and spoke in a loud, clear voice. “I’ll do it. I’ll teach them what I can.”

The other children cheered, and the woman smiled at her.

“Good to hear! Now, who wants to go first?”

As the children squabbled over who would get to learn from her first, Kanade felt a warm feeling spread through her.

It was a long shot: she knew some of them would lose their eagerness after finding out just how much work playing an instrument could be.

But the ones that persevered, the ones that shouldered on despite the heavy burden of musicianship –

She hoped they would be her first friends.

xxx

“You need to bend your fingers more.”

“Like this?”

“That’s too much. Try to copy what I’m doing.”

“Oh . . . okay.”

“That’s better. Now, try playing like that.”

Kanade smiled as her pupil adopted her suggestions. The younger girl she was teaching was one of the most eager to begin lessons and had not shied away even after discovering how much work learning an instrument would require.

There had been a surprising number of children with similar attitudes. About half of them had expressed interest in learning, and half of those interested had persisted after the first few weeks of lessons.

Setting up a schedule where everyone could play regularly hadn’t been difficult; all the students were willing to sacrifice a little time out of their days to learn.

Of course, as the teacher, Kanade needed to be present for every student’s session, making her the most affected by this new arrangement.

The matron had apologized to her for taking up so much of her time, but she had assured the older woman that she was content with the arrangement.

“Hey, Teacher! We’re about to go play ball, wanna join us?”

But for now, she had to make up for lost time.

She smiled. “Sure.”

Her pupils had nicknamed her “Teacher” as an affectionate gesture. She did not mind, but she wished they didn’t joke as much about her teaching normal lessons as well.

She could still recall the whispered conversation during the final lesson of the day.

“Hey! Don’t you think it would be better if Teacher taught math as well?”

“Yeah! She’s super smart! I bet she could do science and history too!”

Instructing a handful of children in a field she was comfortable with was challenging enough.

Quadrupling the number of attendees and adding half a dozen more subjects?

She did not envy the matron’s job.

But now that she had a hobby, a tangible interest she could share with the other children, she found it much easier to relate to them.

“Hey, Teacher! Catch!”

They, in turn, found it much easier to reach out to her as well.

Instinctively, she caught the ball as it sailed towards her.

“Over here! Pass it here!”

She tried to throw the ball towards the voice . . .

However, it veered off course, landing in the far corner of the field.

She blinked. “Ah, I’m sorry.”

One of the older boys nearby scratched the back of his head sheepishly after witnessing her poor execution. “I . . . don’t think that’s how you throw a ball. I can show you some pointers if you want?”

She nodded. “I would appreciate that.”

The boy retrieved the ball and moved to stand next to her. She watched as his body twisted and uncoiled, releasing the ball in one fluid motion.

It sailed in a smooth arc before being plucked out of the air by a receiver.

He turned towards her with a beaming smile. “See? Like that!”

She nodded as though she understood everything he had just did. “I see.”

“Great! Now, you try!”

She caught the ball as it was passed to her. Slowly, she began twisting and turning her body in an attempt to imitate the motions she had seen the older boy perform.

_Whoosh!_

The ball sailed off course yet again.

She blinked at the sight of another failure. “I’m sorry.”

The older boy waved off her apology. “Don’t worry about it! You just need some more practice, then you’ll get the hang of it!”

That was how she spent the rest of her afternoon: being tossed balls and attempting to pitch them in a semi-straight line. Throughout it all, the older boy who had offered to teach her remained at her side, ready to encourage her whenever she felt her resolve wavering.

It felt like a bridge was being built in her heart, something to span the yawning hole that had been opened the day of her parents’ funeral. It made her feel grounded, more in touch with those around her.

She could feel them growing closer together, understanding each other just a little bit more.

She didn’t fit in with the other children, not yet.

But it was a start, a sign of hope for the future.

xxx

Despite the lessons she had been teaching, there was one thing that never changed.

“Hey, Teacher! Can you play that new song, pretty please?”

Although she had offered, not a single one of her pupils wished to play for the class during their music sessions.

_“It’s your job, Teacher! You’re the best at it, anyway.”_

She didn’t mind doing it, but it would be good for their growth as musicians to play in front of a bigger audience.

Oh, well. Maybe she could organize a different recital for her students to partake in.

“The new song has a few tricky parts, so I hope you’ve all been practicing!” the matron said.

She rested her hands on the smooth, white keys. With so many more people using it, they had been more diligent than ever about maintaining the piano. They couldn’t do anything about the parts that had already broke, but the least they could do was ensure that it didn’t deteriorate any further.

“Whenever you’re ready, dear.”

With the matron’s soothing voice in her ears, she could feel herself settle down.

And with a final shift, she played the first note –

The musical trance fell upon her, carrying her body through all the proper motions of the song.

And in the blink of an eye, it was over.

As she was met with the usual applause, she noticed something unusual.

A set of clapping hands that did not seem to originate from the crowd of children.

“That was very beautiful.”

A young man stood in the doorway. Wearing a crisp, black uniform, he exuded an aura of strictness and discipline that starkly contrasted the homey atmosphere of the orphanage.

The matron looked surprised. “Ah, what are you doing in here?”

The man bowed. “Apologies. I was waiting in the reception area, but when I heard the music, I couldn’t help but investigate.”

 He glanced at Kanade. “You are very talented.”

“Thank you,” she said.

The older woman quickly stood up. “Why don’t we take this somewhere private?”

“Of course,” the man smoothly replied.

She turned back to her class for a moment. “Behave yourselves while I’m gone, okay?”

They walked out, leaving behind a room that was now buzzing with whispers about the “strange, black-haired man.”

“Do you think he’s here to adopt someone?”

“I hope he adopts me!”

“Nah, he doesn’t look old enough to be here for that.”

“Then why else would he be here?”

“Maybe he’s going to adopt Teacher!”

Kanade was startled. The thought had never crossed her mind until that voice aired it for all to hear.

“Well, he did compliment her . . .”

“I hope he doesn’t! Who would teach us if Teacher were gone?”

“Yeah, I would miss her too!”

Kanade smiled at the warmth filling their tones. Life at the orphanage was . . . pleasant, these days. She was in no hurry to leave.

But opportunities rarely came twice, and if she were presented with the choice then and there, for the chance to live with a proper, caring family . . .

It was something she had sorely lacked in her own childhood, and it was something she did not want to pass up on. But she didn’t know what it would be like, whether they would thaw her frozen heart or freeze it shut for good.

She didn’t know what she would do.

But she doubted that she would have to make such a decision anytime soon.

xxx

A few days later, everything changed.

Kanade and the other children were gathered together in the common area to greet visitors. It seemed like it would be just another couple coming by, tentatively considering adoption –

But the greying man who walked in had a certain presence to him, an authority that showed that he was used to being obeyed, to being in control. He had a stern face, with wrinkles lining his countenance like scars on a veteran. He wore a formal black uniform that seemed vaguely familiar until she recalled that the young man from a few days ago had worn something similar.

His gaze zoned in on her unerringly. “Is she the one you told me about?”

“Yes, sir,” the black-haired young man from before said, standing just behind him.

His stare was intense, an unwavering, piercing gaze that sought to deconstruct her very being.

“Play for me.”

The matron looked confused. “Pardon me?”

“That girl. I want her to play the piano. Any song will do.”

The older woman turned to her with a questioning gaze, asking if she was willing to go along with the man’s request.

She was as startled by the turn of events as anyone, but she did not see a good reason to refuse.

She nodded.

The matron turned back with a smile. “If you’ll follow me, the piano is right this way. Come on, Kanade dear. And the rest of you, behave while we’re gone!”

The trip was made in silence. Kanade was taciturn by nature, but the two men had an imposing presence that made it difficult to speak out. Even the lively matron seemed subdued.

Eventually, they made it to the music room. Kanade sat down behind the piano while the others took their places in the audience.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

The older man’s voice was rough, a demanding tone that expected nothing less than perfection.

But she did not let the pressure overwhelm her. Within the flow of the music, such external factors were trivial.

She did not pick a song.

No, she played a note and allowed her body to guide her into whatever it felt was most appropriate.

It was a simple song, one that wasn’t nearly as technically difficult as the harder songs she had already learned from the music books.

But as a song that had sprung from her heart, its ability to convey her emotions were unmatched.

The song was of love and loss, of happiness and sorrow. Of the upturns and downturns of life, and of how one must persevere during even the darkest times.

Because there will always be a light at the end.

No matter how long you spend searching for it.

In short, it was a journey, and her audience were merely passengers.

She played the final chord, and a wave of exhaustion swept over her.

**Clap, clap, clap.**

The older man was applauding while looking at her with an approving expression. The matron was clapping enthusiastically as she always did.

“That was great, Kanade dear! When did you learn that?”

She smiled. It was not a song she had learned. No, it was a song she had always carried within her.

She simply did not have the means to express it until now.

“That was a superb performance for one your age. With some refinement, you could become one of the greatest pianists of all time,” the older man said.

He turned to the matron. “I would like to adopt her.”

The older woman seemed startled. “Oh, well that’s great!” She turned to Kanade. “I’m so glad you’ve found a family willing to take you in! Congratulations!”

Kanade felt a bit apprehensive about the idea. The man had seemed detached and cold, not at all what she imagined a caring parent to be like.

But she was only seeing one side of him, so perhaps it was unfair of her to judge him so soon.

He had expressed interest in nurturing her burgeoning hobby, which was a point in his favor.

She bowed. “Thank you for taking me in.”

He nodded and stood up. “My name is Saionji Katsumoto.  That is my assistant over there, Teramoto Atsumichi.”

Said assistant gave her a nod before turning away.

“My family is from a line of famous pianists, so I’m sure you’ll fit in well,” the man said.

She had felt a tinge of nervousness at that statement. She didn’t know how well she compared to famous and talented musicians.

But the man seemed experienced and had judged her worthy.

So, she would trust in his judgment.

It was the least she could do.

xxx

“Again.”

Saionji’s voice was strict and uncompromising. He expected nothing less than perfection from her, and he would not relent until she had delivered it.

Obediently, she replayed the passage that had been giving her so much trouble, a section that involved a sixteenth note jump.

But just like before, her fingers stumbled, and her flow broke yet again, a loud note of dissonance proclaiming her mistake for all to hear.

“Again.”

A hint of displeasure crept into his voice, but the man’s iron discipline stamped it out so quickly that a casual observer wouldn’t have been able to detect it.

But she had lived with the man for the past few years, and she had learned to pick up his subtle tells whenever they appeared.

She had plenty of opportunities to do so, after all.

After that day years ago, when she had arrived at her new “home,” she had rarely gone a day without a music lesson with her new “father.”

In the beginning, she had learned rapidly, absorbing the knowledge of basic and intermediate techniques and notations like a sponge. But he seemed keen to push her even further, to delve into the rigorous and complex pieces of famous composers such as Franz Liszt and Chopin.

It was difficult work, but she persevered and met the man’s continuous demands.

But despite her flourishing talent, her heart remained as cold as ever.

The man had never once displayed an ounce of affection for her, preferring instead to remain cold and detached.

He would compliment her whenever she did well, but his praise always held a tone of emptiness to them, a sense of dullness that never made them seem sincere.

And aside from their daily sessions, she almost never saw the man. All the housework was done by a butler who did not speak to her unless necessary.

No, the only thing her “father” seemed to care about was “nurturing her talent into something splendorous.”  

That was all.

In the end, despite being adopted, she was lonelier than ever. At least in the hospital, she could hope that one day she would be reunited with her parents and have a tearful reunion.

But she didn’t even have that small shred of hope here. Despite being her “family,” she didn’t share any level of intimacy at all with them.

And it was unlikely that that would ever change.

She wondered if she should have chosen to stay at the orphanage, to cling to that small, simple life. She didn’t know if she would have amounted to anything if she had chosen that path, but at the very least, she could have found some small happiness in sharing her joy of music with others.

Or maybe she should have waited for a different family, one that did not see her as a pianist first and a daughter second (if he even considered her a daughter at all).

Regardless, it was too late now. Her fate was sealed.

Perhaps it was foolish of her back then to wish for a better life; whenever she did so, fate seemed to conspire to make her regret it.

If that was the case, then she would just have to close herself off.

Because to hope again would simply be inviting herself to be hurt again.

xxx

She could remember her first concert vividly.

Seeing all those people gathered for her debut, those nameless, faceless strangers who knew of her when she didn’t even know them, made her stomach twist and turn, an ugly feeling that made her want to freeze, to run and hide where those thousand stares couldn’t pin her in place.

Compared to when she had played for the children back at the orphanage, the difference in atmosphere was staggering. Back then, performances had been relaxing, a time where they could come together and make music together to strengthen their bonds.

But here, there was none of that.

There was only this overwhelming pressure bearing down on her.

_Deep breaths. Deep breaths._

She had practiced constantly for this moment. Her “father” had seen to that.

Her fingers trembled ever so slightly as they touched the cool, ivory keys of the grand piano in front of her. This was it. This debut would make or break her career as a concert pianist.

She couldn’t afford to make a mistake.

She felt herself shiver. It was chilly, she realized. Even though she could feel the sweat building up all over her body from her nervous tension, she couldn’t help but feel ice cold.

Every eye darted to her as the curtains were raised, exposing herself to the fickle crowd. They gazed coldly at her, searching for any hint of weakness like a flock of vultures.

Watching her.

Staring at her.

Just waiting for her to slip up.

She closed her eyes, pressed on the first note, and let the rest of the song flow through her like water.

She could not recall what she felt as she played. All she knew was that her body moved like a well-oiled machine, pushing keys in time with her internal metronome to recreate the song she had spent hours perfecting in her practice sessions.

The next thing she knew, it was over.

The cheers were overwhelming.

It was all she could do to stagger to her feet and give a short, awkward bow before quickly shuffling off-stage.

She almost collapsed in the back room, unused to such adrenaline coursing through her body. She found herself panting and gasping for several minutes before finally calming down.

“You did well.”

She turned to find Saionji looking at her with a smile on his lips.

But even that looked fake, insincere. As if he was smiling because it was expected of him rather than any genuine desire.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

He nodded. “With this, I have nothing left to teach you. Now that you are an adult and have made a successful debut, you are ready to become a full-fledged concert pianist.” He paused. “I have business overseas, so I will not be able to aid you any longer. However, you may still in my house in this city as long as you like, and you can still ask Teramoto to help you handle the logistics surrounding your concert performances. You may also rely on Shiina as an escort if necessary.”

He patted her shoulder awkwardly. “I’m sorry if I haven’t been much of a father to you these past few years. I have always been a musician first, and I have always felt the need to cultivate my passion in others as well.” He paused. “At the very least, you have a bright future ahead of you now. Take care of yourself now.”

He turned and walked away, leaving her behind.

That was the last time she ever saw him.

The man who had molded her into who she was today, and he had left her life just as easily as he had entered it, leaving behind only an empty apology for all those years of giving her the cold-shoulder.

She should’ve been outraged at him, this man who thought that cheap words could alleviate his neglect as a father.

But it didn’t bother her. Like he said, he had never been much of a father to her, and thus she had never developed any affection for him.

She had long since stopped expecting any sort of fatherly love to come from him.

But because of him, her future was all planned out for her like a neatly plotted roadmap. The life of a concert pianist, who moved around in a month more often than the average person did in a lifetime and performed for crowds of strangers who would never see past her skill to notice the person underneath.

But, that man was no longer there. He had said it himself: she was an adult now, capable of making her own decisions. There was nothing stopping her from discarding his map and attempting to blaze her own trail.

Except, she had no idea what to do if she went off on her own. Every time she tried to think of an alternative plan, her mind would blank out.

Her “father” had never asked her if she _wanted_ to be a concert pianist. It was simply the role he had been grooming her for from the very start, and she had been too overwhelmed by the transition to protest.

And now it was too late.

Because her last several years of life had been consumed by music, by her preparations to become a concert pianist, she had no inkling of what other career she could pursue.

There was only one path for her to take now.

She could only accept it.


	9. Now my heart's alive

Yuzuru yawned as he fumbled with the key to the door to his shop. He had stayed up much longer than expected listening to Kanade’s story, but he wasn’t about to let that interfere with his work.

He had snuck out so he didn’t disturb her sleep, but not before making breakfast for himself (and her) and leaving a note.

As he entered the café and allowed his body to fall into the ingrained routine involved in setting up the shop, he allowed his thoughts to drift back to the conversation last night.

_She spent most of her childhood hospitalized, then she had to deal with the hardships of her parents’ deaths and being sent to an orphanage. And just when it seemed like her life was taking a turn for the better, it all falls apart again thanks to a man who cared more about his own goals than the girl he adopted._

_No wonder she seemed so lonely when I first saw her._

He knew what it felt like to be alone. After he lost his sister, nothing else seemed to matter in the world.

There was no one left who cared for him.

There was no one left who he cared for.

He might as well have disappeared, running away from the painful reality that threatened to engulf him.

He pulled himself together eventually, but it had been touch and go there for a while. Even so, the process hadn’t truly healed the wound in his heart.

It was impossible to forget, to let go of those cherished memories even if they only pointed out what was missing in his current life.

But after spending so much time with Kanade, his heart didn’t throb so painfully anymore when he reminisced about the past.

Because he was making new memories with someone he cherished, someone he could relate to and connect with.

He couldn’t claim to know what Kanade had gone through. Their lives were far too different for him to truly understand her.

Kanade had spent most of her life following the path laid down by her adoptive guardian, a path that did not end in happiness for her.

He would not let it end like that. She had gone to _him_ for help, entrusted _him_ with her heart and all the woes it carried . . .  

It made him happy. To know that he was needed. To know that someone out there relied on him to this extent.

The very thought of it made his own heart soar.

With such trust placed in him, he knew he couldn’t let her down. He wanted her to see her smile, to achieve the happiness that everyone sought after.

He had asked her if she wanted to quit the music industry altogether, but she had quietly affirmed that she enjoyed making music.

So, what other path could a piano prodigy pursue besides that of a concert pianist? A piano teacher perhaps. She had taught the other kids at the orphanage well enough if her story was anything to go by. Perhaps she could try composing: he had no doubt that anything she created would be breathtakingly beautiful.

Or maybe . . .

His thoughts drifted back to the video of Kanade’s performance he had seen on Yuri’s phone. Kanade was uneasy about performing in front of large audiences, but what if there was a certain separation between the performer and the audience?

He had it. A way for Kanade to continue to perform without suffering anxiety.

Now, he just needed to ask for a few more favors . . .

With a start, he realized that he was standing behind his counter. Everything was in place: the pastries were properly displayed, the machines had all been checked, and the utensils were all clean.

He hadn’t even noticed himself move.

He wondered if he was spending too much time doing this job.

xxx

“Hit me up with more of those discounted drinks, booya!”

“M – more?! How the heck do you keep it all down? I can already feel the coffee sloshing around in my stomach . . .”

Yuzuru chuckled as he brewed another drink for Yui. Hinata sat next to her at the counter, his head nestled amidst his arms on the wooden surface.

“Is it possible to overdose on coffee? Because if I drink any more, I’m pretty sure I’ll reach that limit,” Hinata said with a groan.

“Hah! You admit defeat, then? Victory is mine!” Yui said with a triumphant grin.

Yuzuru’s gaze darted between the two of them. “So, what was this drinking contest about, anyway?”

The couple had walked into his shop in the afternoon.

Or, more accurately, Yui had dragged Hinata into his shop in the afternoon.

They had plopped down at the counter and proceeded to order “as much coffee as they could drink.”

Yui had gulped down her share of the coffee with gusto while Hinata tried to keep pace, although he noticed that his friend was always one or two cups behind her.

Even when Yui had taken a brief break after her seventh cup to gasp for breath, Hinata didn’t take the opportunity to close the gap. Instead, he slowed down his pace even more, taking only small sips from his cup until Yui had recovered.

Eventually, Hinata threw in the towel and Yui declared herself the victor.  

But just what had sparked this competition in the first place?

At his question, Hinata looked like he was doing his best to not meet his gaze while Yui smirked mischievously.  

“This fellow here,” Yui said as she nudged Hinata with her elbow, “was talking smack about how guys could drink more than girls. I thought I should teach him a lesson not to underestimate girls!”

She basked in the glory of her win for a few moments longer, until her expression collapsed into a pained grimace.

“Ahhh gotta run to the lady’s room!”

She sped off, leaving behind an amused barista and an embarrassed boyfriend.

Yuzuru looked at his friend with a raised eyebrow. “Was that really the full story? I noticed that you didn’t seem to be trying all that hard to win.”

Hinata chuckled weakly. “Remember how I told you she wanted to do all those crazy feats a while back? Well . . . one of those was winning a drinking contest. And . . . today is the anniversary of the formation of her band, so I wanted to do something nice for her.”

“So, you decided to fulfill one of her wishes, although not in an entirely honest manner,” he said with a playful glare.

“Yeah. Well, she looked thrilled when she won. So, I’m content with my decision,” Hinata said with a smile. “Besides, a little white lie never hurt anyone, did it?”

Yuzuru hummed thoughtfully. “No, I suppose not.”

A silence fell over the two of them as they lost themselves in thought.

“You know,” Hinata said absentmindedly. “Yui wanted to do it with real liquor initially. But I didn’t want to risk both of us getting drunk and doing something we might regret later, which is why I suggested coffee instead.”

Yuzuru nodded in approval. “A good choice. You two have something special between the two of you, and it would be a shame if it were ruined by a careless decision.”

A loud flush interrupted their conversation, followed by Yui strolling back towards the counter with a wide grin.

“All that caffeine is making me so excited! I feel like I could pump out a dozen lightning-fast guitar riffs, no sweat!”

Yuzuru smiled wryly at her declaration. “Don’t push yourself too hard, now. Anyway, I wanted to ask you something . . .” He met her eyes. “Do you have any recording equipment?”

Yui tilted her head at him. “Recording equipment? You mean, cameras and mics and stuff? Yeah, we got those.”

“I need another favor; I would like to borrow some of them.”

Yui gazed at him with a curious expression. “Oh?” She grinned widely. “Is it for your ‘mysterious friend’?” she asked with a knowing look.

Yuzuru nodded sheepishly. “Yeah. Sorry for the trouble.”

She waved off his apology. “Oh, no it’s fine. We had too much spare stuff lying around anyway. It’ll be nice to put some of it to use. When do you need it by?”

“Can you bring it by in the evening?”

“Sure thing!”

He smiled. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Yui smiled back. “No problem!” She plopped down at the counter and swung an arm around Hinata. “Let’s go another round! Now that my stomach is swirling with coffee, maybe you’ll stand a chance this time!”

“Wha – I really don’t think this is a good idea –” Hinata sputtered.

Yuzuru watched the scene unfold with an amused expression. He was glad he hadn’t given up back then, that he hadn’t succumbed to the despair that threatened to engulf him when his sister passed away.

Because if he had, he wouldn’t have been able to meet so many wonderful people.

And he wouldn’t be able to have these scenes in his shop, laughing and poking fun with his customers-turned-friends.

He hoped that this wouldn’t change, that he could cling to this happiness for a while longer.

But for now, he had a job to do.

“Coming right up!”

xxx

Kanade showed up at the usual time, as she always did.

Even when she had done something as drastic as inviting someone to live at her place for the time being the day before, she stalwartly stuck to her routine.

Of course, he was glad she had come. It would have been awkward if he had asked Yui to bring the equipment only for the person who was meant to utilize them to not show up.

Speaking of Yui . . .

“Heya! Kanade, right? Nice to meet ya!”

Kanade stared blankly at the girl she didn’t know who was shaking her hand.

“Do I know you?”

Yui blinked, then chuckled in embarrassment as she realized her error. “Silly me, I forgot to introduce myself! I’m Yui; I’m part of a band, so from one musician to another, I think you’re amazing!”

“I see,” Kanade said. “Thank you.”

“Anyway, I brought the recording equipment for you!”

She was confused. “Recording equipment?”

“I asked her to bring it, Kanade,” Yuzuru cut in. “I thought it might help with that problem of yours.”

Now Yui was the one who looked confused. “What problem?”

He didn’t answer; instead, he looked meaningfully at Kanade.

After a few moments, Kanade connected the dots. “Oh. That is a clever solution.”

Before Yui could ask them about the subject they were dancing around, a loud banging noise came from the door.

“Hey! Wanna open up? My arms are killing me here!”

“He’s finally here! Geez, I thought I told him to come sooner!” Yui said exasperatedly as she opened the door.

Hinata stumbled inside, his arms laden with a pair of box-shaped equipment with several circular shapes and buttons on their front. They were old, but they should work well enough for what Yuzuru had in mind.

The baseball player rushed over to where the other equipment was and quickly set down his own load before doubling over, panting for breath.

“Ugh, I thought my arms were gonna fall off from carrying those speakers around. Why did I get roped into doing this again?” he moaned.

“They’re not speakers! They’re studio monitors! And it’s because the other band members were busy, and you wouldn’t let your cute girlfriend move all this heavy equipment all by her lonesome now, would you?” Yui replied.

Yuzuru watched with amusement as the couple bickered with each other once again. Kanade stood next to him, her own eyes watching the scene unfold as well.

“Don’t mind them. They’re always like that,” he said, answering her unspoken question.

She nodded. “I see.”

Although the couple was entertaining to watch, it wouldn’t do to be distracted from the real purpose of their meeting here.

He sighed and approached the pile of equipment, cables and wires entangled during their haphazard placement. It would take a while if he tried to sort this out on his own.

“Mind giving me a hand here, Kanade?”

Her approach was indicative enough of her agreement. As they sorted through the equipment and set up, a loud crash briefly interrupted their work.

Glancing behind him, he noticed that Yui had Hinata in yet another wrestling hold, and the two of them had tumbled into one of the chairs. “Don’t rough around too much, okay? You might end up breaking something.”

“Don’t worry, Yuzuru! This sucker ain’t going anywhere!”

“He – hey Yuzuru! Don’t encourage her! ARGHHHHH!”

As he turned back around, he saw that Kanade’s attention had also been drawn to the ruckus nearby.

“Just ignore them. Let’s focus on getting this up and running, yeah?” he said.

She glanced at him, a certain thoughtfulness in her eyes lingering for a moment before dissipating.

“Okay.”

xxx

“Phew! That wasn’t so bad,” Yuzuru said, wiping sweat from his brow.

Besides him, Kanade remained silent, although he could tell from her expression she was satisfied with their success as well.

He wasn’t an expert on musical equipment, so he had little idea what many of the items were for or how to set them up, but Yui had been happy to answer their questions while she tried different methods to pin her boyfriend in place.

“Hey, what’s this long rod?”

“Oh, that’s the microphone stand! Make sure it’s stable so the mic doesn’t fall off, because if it does, then Hisako will kill me for wasting equipment!”

“Oi, can you get off me already?! I think I’m losing feeling in my arm . . .”

“Hey, what’s this box with all these sockets?”

“Oh, that’s the audio interface! Just plug the USB cord on it into the laptop and plug the studio monitors and the mic into it as well and it should be good to go!”

“Oi, are you even listening to me?! If I mess up at practice tomorrow because my arm is numb, Coach is gonna tan my hide!”

Eventually, everything was set up correctly, and Hinata even managed to get out from under Yui at some point (he was now sulking at the counter, nursing a drink that Yuzuru had whipped up for him out of pity).

“Alright!” Yui flexed her fingers as she sat behind the laptop and pulled up various programs. “Let me just configure the Digital Audio Workstation real quick, then we can get recording!”

Kanade moved to sit at the piano, looking curiously at all the cables and equipment that now surrounded her. As she almost stumbled over one particularly hidden cable, Yuzuru made a mental note to organize the equipment in a less . . . hazardous manner.

“Do you want the camera to capture full-body, or should it be closer and focus on, say, her hands?” Yui asked.

Yuzuru and Kanade shared a glance. Neither was sure of the pros and cons of each, but for now, Yuzuru would err on the side of caution and preserve Kanade’s anonymity in the video.

“Just the hands for now,” he said.

“Gotcha. Woo! Now, I’m ready when you are,” Yui said with a smile.

Kanade looked at them hesitantly, still uncertain of what she was supposed to do.

“Just play a song,” Yuzuru said. “If you can’t decide, then just play whatever you played most recently.”

 “I’ve already started recording, so just begin whenever you’re ready,” Yui added.

Kanade nodded and settled her hands over the keys. She took a deep breath . . .

And a melody flowed out, as clear as water.

He had heard her play many times now, but he was still somewhat awed by the sheer grace of her performances. Every note was struck with utmost confidence; every beat was precisely followed.

Yui seemed just as mesmerized as he had been when he first saw Kanade play on TV, and even Hinata had broken out of his funk long enough to witness the performance.

And with a resounding climax, the song was over.

Yui stood up and applauded enthusiastically. “That was amazing! I think I’ve gotten a new idea for a song from that . . .”

Yuzuru and Hinata followed the cheerful girl’s lead and clapped, although in a more moderate fashion.

“Fantastic as usual, Kanade.”

“Man, you get to listen to this every night? I’m actually kind of jealous, Yuzuru.”

As Yuzuru tried to ignore the sideways glare from Hinata boring into him, he looked at Yui and asked, “So, how’s the recording? Did it come out alright?”

“Yea, yea, just gimme a second. I’m cropping out the beginning where we were all blabbering.”

A few clicks of the mouse later, she swung back around with a flourish. “And, done! Now, let’s give it a listen, shall we?”

They huddled around the laptop as Yui hit the play button. Immediately, that same, familiar melody played again, although the quality was somewhat worse than that of the live performance.

“Well, this equipment isn’t top-of-the-line, but it gets the job done,” she said.

With the camera’s zoom, they could get a much better look at the leaps and jumps Kanade’s hands were making at dazzling speed. Not a single finger was still for even a moment; they were all caught up in the same frenzied pace that the piece demanded of them.

The video ended, leaving the shop quiet once more.

“Well, I think it turned out alright,” Yui said.

“I think so too. What about you, Kanade?” Yuzuru asked.

Kanade nodded quietly in agreement.

“Great! Now, what do you want me to do with the video anyway? I can just save it for later, unless you have something in mind . . . ?” Yui asked.

“Well . . .” Yuzuru’s mind flashed back to what Yuri had shown him yesterday. “I have an idea, but I want to run it by Kanade first. It’ll take a few minutes.”

“Hmm? Oh, sure. Go ahead,” Yui replied indifferently.

Yuzuru stepped into the hallway leading to his office and gestured for Kanade to follow. She stopped next to him and looked at him with a questioning gaze.

“I was thinking . . .” he said. “That maybe we should upload the video.”

“Upload?”

“Yeah. You know, put it on the internet for everyone to see.”

“Oh.” She paused. “But why?”

“Well, I’ve heard that there are people who can make a living posting videos to the web. You said you didn’t like performing at concerts, right?”

She nodded.

“But,” he said, “you still enjoy playing the piano, don’t you?”

She nodded again.

“So instead of being a concert pianist, you could just make music videos for a living instead. No one will even have to know it’s you in particular; there are plenty of artists that remain anonymous. How does that sound?”

She glanced downwards, her brows furrowed in thought as she pondered his suggestion.

“I like the idea.” She decided at last.

He smiled. “Great! Let’s go tell Yui.”

As they walked back into the main room together, Yui turned to them expectantly. “Well? What’s the decision?”

“Why don’t we upload the video?” he suggested.

Yui raised an eyebrow. “Upload it? Sure thing, if Kanade’s cool with it.” She looked at the pianist with a questioning look.

“I don’t mind.”

“Great! I’ll just get this sucker cleaned up with a few edits, then it’ll be ready for the world wide web!” Yui exclaimed. “But first . . .” She shot Yuzuru a look. “Another drink! You can’t expect me to work on an empty stomach, can you?”

“I don’t think that’s what drinks are for . . .” Hinata protested.

“Shut it, you!”

xxx

“Ah, what a long day.”

Yuzuru sighed as he followed Kanade back into her home. Yui had demanded several free drinks as payment for lending him her band’s equipment (he wouldn’t have minded as much if each successive drink didn’t seem to make her work more slowly on the video edits).

Eventually, Yui declared that she had finished, which he had taken as his own cue to begin closing the shop. However, she had noticed that Kanade hadn’t left yet and thus began talking with her about music and . . . whatever else girls talked about with each other.

Hinata had left some time ago, stating that he needed to turn in early so he would be well-rested for practice tomorrow.

After Yuzuru had finished with his preparations, Yui had taken it as her cue to leave, waving at Kanade while shouting that, “they really needed to do this again sometime!”

Kanade had waved back with her usual stoic expression, but Yui had been excited by the response all the same.

Afterward, they had walked back home together (he still felt it was strange for them to be living together, but she didn’t seem bothered at all).

“If you’re feeling hungry, I’ll be making those sandwiches again. In the meantime, feel free to make yourself comfort –”

But Kanade had already strode past him and into the living room.

He blinked, then laughed softly.

“Guess she’s already used to it.”

He entered the kitchen and got to work. Once he finished, he went to the living room and found Kanade sitting on the couch and watching TV (he couldn’t help but notice that her TV and couch were of far higher quality than the ones he had owned).

He stepped next to the couch and peered at the screen out of curiosity.

“A gardening show? I would never have thought you liked something like that.”

“I enjoy watching them grow.”

“Huh . . . well, whatever suits you, I guess. Anyway, the food is ready.”

“I see.”

As he turned around and walked away, he felt a sudden weight around his neck, causing him to stumble backward.

“WOAH!”

**Whump.**

Yuzuru could see that he had fallen onto the couch, but whatever he was lying on certainly didn’t feel like a couch.

He twisted his head around to see Kanade with her arms wrapped around his neck, looking at him impassively as if they weren’t currently in a compromising position.

“Um . . . what is this supposed to be?”

“This is the second time you’ve made food for me, so I thought I would express my gratitude.”

“And just how is grabbing onto my neck a show of gratitude?”

“Yui said this is how I should do it.”

“JUST WHAT HAS SHE BEEN FILLING YOUR EARS WITH?”

After untangling themselves from each other, they reconvened in the kitchen, a plate with a sandwich in front of each of them.

He tore into his food eagerly, the taste of tomatoes and mayonnaise filling his mouth.

“Hunger makes food taste much better, doesn’t it?” he said lightheartedly.

“Hmm.”

After her lackluster response, he noticed that Kanade was simply picking at her sandwich as if she weren’t hungry at all.

He frowned. “You should eat. I’m sure you can’t perform well on an empty stomach, right?”

She glanced up and blinked. “Huh? Oh, right.” She began taking small bites out of her food.

Seeing her behavior, he was reminded of another topic that he had been meaning to discuss with her. But he didn’t want to potentially sour the dinner’s atmosphere, so he waited until they were both finished eating.

“Well, did you like it?” he asked.

She nodded. “It was good,” she said softly.

He smiled. “I’m glad to hear that.” He folded his arms and leaned forward. “I’ve been meaning to ask, but how long do you plan on letting me stay here?”

She paused in the midst of wiping her lips with a napkin. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you said you were fine with me staying for a while. But I can’t just keep on taking advantage of your hospitality forever, right?”

She tilted her head. “So, you want to leave?”

He waved his hands frantically. “No, no! I just meant that I wouldn’t be living here forever, that’s all.”

“. . .”

Her silence wasn’t exactly . . . reassuring.

“I have not thought about it,” she finally said.

“Well, think about it while I go wash the dishes, alright?”

He stood up and walked to the kitchen, but just before he got out of earshot, he heard a faint string of words, barely audible.

_“But . . . what if I don’t want you to?”_

He almost stumbled as he grasped her meaning.

_She . . . wants me to stay here?_

_With her?_

_Indefinitely?_

His heart was pounding. He found that part of himself was oddly pleased with the idea, but another part, the cynical aspect, whispered to him that it would never work out, that they weren’t at all compatible.

He had never truly faced his feelings on the matter, but now he finally realized that after spending so much time with her in his shop, he had grown to like her.

No, that wasn’t quite right.

He _loved_ her.

The way her slim fingers danced across the keys, releasing a soothing lullaby.

The way her golden eyes shone, almost as if they possessed their own light.

The way she behaved just a little naively, a trait that he found endearing.

Truly, a perfect angel.

But did she feel the same way? Did she find him, a mere barista, to be worthy?

Some jaded part of him told him ‘no,’ that there was no way a famous pianist like her could possibly deign to be with _him_ , and that he should forget that he heard anything and just move on.

But he couldn’t ignore it. He couldn’t ignore the fact that he had a chance.

A chance.

For happiness.

He looked down and realized that he had finished the dishes during his little internal monologue.

Now, all he had to do was walk back into the dining room and face her.

Kanade. The woman he loved.

Suddenly, he regretted telling her to think about giving him a deadline for moving out.

Then again, he supposed it could be considered a test. After all, if that was all it took to shake her, then a relationship never would have worked out anyway.

That’s what he kept on telling himself as he strode back in, looking for all the world like he was full of confidence even as he tried to hide the fact that his whole body was trembling.

He must not have been successful, for Kanade looked at him with a concerned expression as he drew near.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Anyway, have you thought about what I said?”

 _I hope you didn’t_ , a small part of him whispered in his mind.

She remained silent for a long time. As every second passed, he could feel himself sweating profusely, the tension rising to nerve-wracking amounts.

“I did,” she answered at last.

“Oh,” he said with a tired expression. The knot in his gut that had been building loosened, a feeling of dejection spreading through him. “Well, when have you decided?”

“I want you to stay.”

He couldn’t have heard right. “Pardon?”

“I want you to stay here.” She pointed at him. “With me.”

He stared at her incomprehensibly. There was no way this was true. That this beautiful, wonderful girl would pick _him_ of all people.

Yet . . . she already had, didn’t she?

_“You said an anchor is someone I could confide in.”_

_“And that is what I am doing right now.”_

That’s right, she had already picked him to be her ‘anchor.’

How had he forgotten? He had been so happy about it at that moment, but he hadn’t known just how much value she had placed in his position as her confidante.

Of course, this didn’t confirm it. He had to know for sure.

He managed to barely open his mouth to utter the crucial question.

“Why?”

She looked at him long and hard. Every moment felt as if his heart might burst from the sheer pressure.

“Because I need you.”

His heart skipped a beat.

“What do you . . . mean by that?” he stuttered.

Her fingers tapped the table as she organized her thoughts, creating a steady rhythm like a metronome.

“You’re the only one . . . who talks to me like this. Someone who doesn’t care about my fame and listens to my personal worries. And . . . whenever I’m around you, I get this strange feeling in my heart, like I don’t want to ever let you go.”

Kanade had her hopes dashed before.

Being adopted by that man had been a mistake, one that had condemned her to years of loneliness.

But if that was what led her to meet Yuzuru, then perhaps it was all worth it . . .

The two of them stared at each other, their hearts racing with both hope and trepidation.

“Kanade . . .” he said slowly. “When you say ‘strange feeling’ . . . do you mean . . . love?”

She blinked at him.

Love?

Love was something unfamiliar to her.

She couldn’t remember her parents’ love for her (if there had been any, at all).

Her adopted father was no better.

But . . . as she scrutinized this deep attachment in her heart that made her want to stay with Yuzuru . . . she felt it might be love after all.

She liked him. That was for sure.

His earnest desire to help others . . .

The many ways he had helped _her_ in particular . . .

But really, at the end of the day . . .

It was just nice to have someone to talk to.

Someone who would listen to her and not judge her.

Someone who would hear her worries and lend a helping hand.

Someone who she could trust with her secrets and be trusted in return.

If this someone was a person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with . . .

Then surely, that must be love?

She looked at him, that face she had so seen so often.

She wanted to see him every day, to comfort and support each other as they have so far for all eternity.

So really, there was only one answer to his question.

She nodded.

“I love you.”

Yuzuru’s heart stopped. In that instant, nothing else seemed to matter. Nothing except the girl in front of him, and the words he had always wanted to hear from her mouth.

He closed his eyes and breathed out softly. It wouldn’t be fair to her if he didn’t return the favor now, was it?

“I love you too.”

Her eyes widened. As if she hadn’t thought he would reciprocate her feelings.

Well, he had thought the same just a few moments prior. But now was the time for actions to take the forefront.

He stood up and walked over to her. Her golden eyes tracked him as he approached, dazzling him with their beauty.

He reached out and pulled her into a hug.

Her arms snaked out and looped around his neck, a near imitation of when she had grabbed him in the living room.

But this time, he made no move to shake her off.

Now, he wanted to hold onto her for all eternity.

Forever and ever.


	10. And racing

Yuzuru woke up feeling strangely content.

His eyes took in the features of the unfamiliar room he had been sleeping in, and he remembered just where he was.

And what exactly had happened last night.

Well. Guess it isn’t so strange after all.

After experiencing the bliss known as love, he wouldn’t be surprised if he was on cloud nine for an entire week straight.

Unfortunately, his impending need to get to work on time dragged him back down to reality.

He got up and performed his usual morning routine before creeping down the stairs, careful not to disturb the other residents.

Not that there were all that many in the first place.

However, as he finally reached the kitchen, his plan to be considerate was dashed.

Kanade was sitting down at the table, looking as unperturbed as always.

“Good morning.”

“Oh! Uh, good morning,” he replied awkwardly. “What are you doing up so early?”

“I wanted to see you in the morning.”

“Oh.” He felt himself blush. Even after their mutual confessions last night, he still found himself caught off-guard by how blunt this girl could be.

Then again, her straightforwardness and honesty were part of why he liked her.

“Wel – l, seeing your smiling face in the morning has brightened up my day too!” he responded with forced cheer.

However, just saying something like that made him feel horribly flustered.

_Gah, get it together Yuzuru! Isn’t it the guy’s job to make the girl blush?_

He felt his masculinity shrivel at that realization. And the worst part was: he didn’t think she was even doing it on purpose.

She was simply saying what she genuinely felt, leaving him a bumbling mess while she remained unaware of the destruction she had caused.

Well, no one said a relationship would be easy. He was just going to have to tough it out.

“Anyway . . .” He composed himself as he walked deeper into the kitchen. “I have to start preparing for work, but I’ll make breakfast for the both of us first.”

“I’m coming with you.”

He turned back to her with a startled expression. “Huh?”

“You’ve helped me a lot,” she clarified. “So, I want to help you in return.”

He waved his hands in front of him frantically. “You’ve already helped me plenty by letting me stay here! There’s no need for you to trouble yourself any more –”

“But I want to,” she insisted.

He felt his resistance fade in the face of her persistence. “Thanks, but . . . there’s not much for you to do at the shop.”

Her eyes remained steady. “I can help you set up, at least.”

“And what about afterward? People will start coming in, and I know you don’t like drawing attention to yourself.”

“I’ll just work on something else in a side room. Like composing a song.”

He thought about it. “Hmm . . . well, if you insist. You can use my office for privacy.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “It’s not a big deal. And besides, I should be the one thanking _you_ since you’re coming to help me set up.” He turned back towards the kitchen. “So, what do you want for breakfast anyway?”

“Mapo tofu.”

“That’s not a breakfast food!”

xxx

“Yuzuru, I’ve finished putting the pastries in the display case.”

Yuzuru looked up from where he was sorting ingredients in the refrigerator. “Alright, I’ll take a look.” He set the last of the milk jugs into a neat row and closed the refrigerator.

“You finished awfully quickl –”

He stopped in his tracks. There was something terribly wrong with the scene in front of him.

He rubbed his eyes and opened them again, hoping that he was just seeing things.

Nope. Still there.

Kanade looked at him innocently. “Is something wrong?”

“Kanade . . .” he said. “Why is the double-chocolate croissant behind the label for ‘banana bread’?”

She looked at the offending pastry.

“Oh.” She paused. “I didn’t know.”

He sighed. Not only was the pastry he had mentioned in the wrong spot, but almost every other one was misplaced as well.

Most of his regulars knew the names by heart by now, but he would get strange looks if his display case was advertising coffeecakes as “blueberry muffins.”

“Sorry,” he said. “This is my fault. I forgot to tell you the name of each pastry.”

One-by-one, he went through each of the pastries and its corresponding name. Kanade remained silent as she soaked up the information.

“Okay, do you think you have it?” he asked.

She nodded. “I think I understand.”

“Good. Rearrange these, and don’t be afraid to ask me if you think you have it mixed up.”

He turned to the next task in his daily routine of morning preparation, which was checking over the coffee makers and espresso machines.

His old boss had ingrained the importance of caring for the machines in him early on. As a first-hand demonstration, the old man had forced him to drink a cup of coffee made from one of the oldest, most run-down coffee making machines he had ever seen.

He has ensured that his machines were in peak working condition ever since.

He scrutinized his coffee machine first, looking for any signs of rust or wear and tear.

“Everything looks fine.”

After doing the same inspection for the espresso machine and deciding that its condition was fine as well, he heard Kanade calling for him.

“Yuzuru. I’ve finished.”

Huh. That was fast. And she hadn’t even asked him for help.

He hoped that she had remembered everything correctly and that he wasn’t about to bear witness to another affront to prim and proper display cases everywhere.

“Alright, let’s see how it . . . is . . .”

He stopped in his tracks. He had to be seeing things.

He rubbed his eyes and opened them again.

Nope. Still there.

 “Is something wrong?” Kanade asked.

“Kanade . . .” He breathed out heavily. “It’s beautiful.”

Everything was in exactly the right place.

And not just that, but she had organized the pastries so . . . neatly.

Loaves of the same type were stacked on top of each other, barely a crust out of line. Muffins and its ilk were precisely lined up, as straight as it could be for something as variable as foodstuffs.

“I have never seen my display case look so good,” he declared.

“Oh.” Her cheeks held the slightest tinge of red. “Thank you.”

However, his gaze noticed something that marred the perfection of the display before him. The recording equipment, strewn around the piano haphazardly, was a mess that broke the air of perfection that had exuded from the display case.

“Say, we should move all that equipment out of the way, shouldn’t we,” he mused.

Kanade glanced in the same direction. “That would be wise. Someone might trip over it.”

“Right. Well, I have a storage room we can put these in for now. Mind giving me a hand?”

But Kanade had moved to help before he even finished his sentence.

“Hey, don’t carry something as heavy as that with only one arm!” he called out.

“It’s fine. I’ve seen Shiina carry heavier.”

“That doesn’t mean you should too!”

xxx

“Thank you, come again!”

Yuzuru waved as his latest customer exited the shop with a satisfied smile. Business had been picking up lately, which he was grateful for.

But for some reason, quite a few of his recent customers seemed to be dressed in suits and ties . . .

It was probably Yuri’s doing again, wasn’t it.

_I should do something nice for her one of these days._

Speaking of women in his life, he should check up on the one closest to him.

She was probably thirsty after being cooped up in his office for so long.

He whipped up another cup of coffee and walked towards his office. As he entered, he saw Kanade sitting in his chair, hunched over a piece of paper with a pencil in hand.

“How’s it going?” he inquired as he set the coffee down in front of her.

She glanced at the drink, then up at him. “Thank you.” She took a sip. “I’m almost done.”

“Oh?” He looked down at the paper, which was covered with symbols and other notation he couldn’t make heads or tails of. “That was fast.”

“I was inspired,” she explained.

“By what?”

“By you.”

His heart skipped a beat. He was amazed at how she could say such a line with a straight face.

He fought the blush that threatened to engulf his face. “W – well, I’m glad I could be of help . . .” he stammered.

She simply nodded in response. “Would you like to hear it?”

“Huh? I thought it wasn’t quite finished yet.”

“I would like to hear your thoughts on what I have.”

“Well . . .” He glanced at the clock. It was getting late; he doubted that any more customers would arrive for today. “Sure. Why not.”

They returned to the main room where the piano was waiting for them. Yuzuru had taken it upon himself to care for it as part of his daily routine, cleaning it and ensuring it remained free of dust and grime.

Because it was a reminder: of the girl who had captivated his attention on stage so long ago, and of the woman who he loved today.

To neglect it would be to neglect _her_.

And he would die before _that_ happened.

A stream of notes cut off his train of thought. Kanade had sat down in front of the piano and was warming up by playing through a scale.

The final note sounded. “Are you ready?” she asked.

He chuckled. “I think that’s supposed to be my line. But yeah; go ahead whenever you’re ready.”

She nodded.

And her fingers launched into motion.

The song was . . . a story. At least, that’s how Yuzuru interpreted it. And the more he thought about it, the more he couldn’t help but feel it was a song about . . . them.

The two of them. And how their relationship came to be.

It began with a quiet and subtle prologue, where they only knew _of_ each other. The duration of the notes was long, almost absurdly so, making each one feel lonesome.

It transitioned into an explosive chance encounter, characterized by a breakneck tempo and rapid triplets.

The song then stabilized, settling into a more moderate tempo. They had now met and were beginning the start of their long-term relationship.

The song continued like this for a while, maintaining the same general motif while allowing a few divergences here and there for notable events.

The intensity of the piece grew, the beat accelerating like the pianist was cranking the metronome all the way up, climbing towards the climax –

Their confessions. That must be what it represented.

The song settled back down, taking on that moderate tempo once again. It continued like that for a little while longer, before cutting off.

 “What did you think?”

Eyes of gold stared at him, awaiting his judgment.

But really, there was only one answer to give.

“It was beautiful,” he replied earnestly.

She frowned, almost turning it into a pout. “That’s what you always say.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true,” he said good-naturedly. “Although . . .” He paused for a moment, uncertain as to whether he should continue.

But her silent gaze pleaded for him to go on, and she had wanted him to provide feedback in the first place.

“The ending,” he began. “What did you have in mind?”

She tilted her head in thought. “I don’t know yet,” she confessed.

“You should write what you want and work to make it come true,” he suggested.

“I see.” She paused. “And what do you want?” she asked.

He closed his eyes as he pondered the question.

“I think . . .” he said slowly, “that the end should sound like the beginning. Slow and steady, almost peaceful. Only . . .” He smiled. “You should put the notes in pairs. After all, they aren’t so lonely anymore, right?”

Slowly, she smiled. A beautiful, wonderful thing he was sure he would cherish for the rest of his life.

“I like that idea.”

xxx

“Hey, hey, you guys won’t believe it!”

A pink blur rushed through the door to the shop and came to a stop in front of them.

It was Yui, and while she seemed disheveled from her mad dash, that did nothing to detract from the wide grin she wore on her face.

“Hey – Yui – wait up, would you?”

A haggard Hinata stumbled through the door, beads of sweat dripping down his face. He was doubled over, panting for breath as he gave his girlfriend an irritated glare.

“Ah, you’re just slow, Hinata!” Yui teased.

“You would be slow too if you just came out of a baseball practice where the coach seemed intent on drilling us to death!”

Yuzuru coughed to interrupt their bickering before it could devolve any further. “So, Yui . . . what were referring to when you first rushed in here?”

“Oh, right.” She hit her palm with a fist. “You know that video you asked me to upload?”

Kanade looked up in interest from the sheet music she was working on at the mention of the video.

“Yeah? What about it?” Yuzuru asked.

“It’s already exploded in popularity! I’m kind of jealous; none of the band’s videos that we’ve posted have received anywhere _near_ the same number of likes. All the comments are clamoring about wanting to know who the secret guest player was.”

He raised an eyebrow in surprise. “I didn’t think it would gain traction _that_ quickly.”

“You and me both!” Yui stuck her head closer to Kanade. “What’s your secret, girl? Did you modify the piano? Campaign for views? Use some kind of special nail polish?”

As Yui’s ideas grew increasingly outlandish, Kanade spoke up calmly.

“I just practice a lot.”

“Agh, so innocent! What can I do in the face of such pure-hearted dedication?”

Yui paused in her tirade as she noticed that something was missing. “Hey, where did all the equipment go?”

“Oh, they were taking up a lot of room, so we moved them into the storage room,” Yuzuru replied.

“Well, get them back out! We’re recording another one; Hinata, you’re in charge!”

“Why me?!”

As Hinata grumpily got the recording equipment out of storage, Yuzuru turned to Yui with a questioning look. “And why are you so eager to record another video of Kanade?”

“Because the popularity of Kanade’s video spilled over to the band’s videos as well since I uploaded them on the same channel. We hadn’t seen such a spike in views in months!”

Yui was all starry-eyed about the situation, imagining all the attention her band was garnering from the situation.

Unfortunately, she was overlooking one crucial detail.

“Well then . . .” Yuzuru said humorously. “Do _you_ want to record another video, Kanade?”

“Eh?” Yui snapped out of her daze as she realized her mistake. “Oh! Sorry, Kanade . . . I forgot to ask you if you were willing . . .”

The pianist looked at her without a hint of irritation. “It’s okay. I don’t mind playing for a recording again.”

“Yay! Thank you, thank you!”

Yui bounced forward and hugged Kanade, who looked startled by the gesture but hesitantly returned the hug.

“Don’t worry! I’ll give you a share of the proceeds from the video; it’s the least I can do!” Yui promised.

“But I already have a lot of money.”

“It’s the gesture that counts!”

“Hey!” Hinata hollered from the storage room. “Can someone help me out here? I’m way too tired to be carrying all this by myself!”

The two girls simultaneously turned to look at Yuzuru.

He rolled his eyes as he turned towards the storage room. “Coming, coming!”

As he left, he thought to himself:

_Even though my body feels heavy from a long day of work . . ._

He glanced back and saw the two of them chatting happily.

_My heart feels lighter than ever._

xxx

“Phew, I’m beat.”

Yuzuru strode into the living room of Kanade’s house and collapsed onto the couch. After putting up with Yui’s shenanigans for the past few hours while she tried to get a “few” recordings of Kanade (she had ended up with over half a dozen videos) had been tiresome. It was all he could do to make a quick dinner for him and Kanade before his body demanded rest.

“You must be tired too, right, Kanade? Yui was working you to the bone back there,” he said.

She sat down on the couch next to him. “I’m used to playing for long periods of time.”

Normally, he would have been flustered by their sudden closeness. But ever since their mutual confession, these scenes had lost much of their awkwardness.

In fact, he couldn’t help but feel that there was an inherent _rightness_ to their positions.

As if they were always meant to be close together.

No. The scene wasn’t quite right yet.

His hand snaked around hers and clasped it tightly.

She looked at him questionably, to which he merely replied with a smile.

Slowly, she replied with a small smile of her own.

“By the way,” he began, “you’ve stopped putting on concerts, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Which means, technically, you’re unemployed.”

“Yes.”

He rolled his eyes at her nonchalant attitude. “Shouldn’t you be more worried about that?”

“I have plenty of money saved up,” she replied.

“That won’t last forever,” he warned. “You should be thinking about a new career.”

“A new career?”

“Yeah. You liked recording and uploading those videos of yourself playing, right?”

She nodded.

“Well, you could make a living off doing that if your videos become popular enough,” he said. “It’ll be hard; you won’t be able to rely on Yui forever. You’ll need to start recording and uploading those videos yourself.”

“I see,” she said thoughtfully. “In that case, I will ask Yui to teach me how to record and upload. Then, I’ll do it all myself.”

He chuckled. “So fast? She’s going to be disappointed that she can’t mooch off your videos a bit longer.”

“I gave her some advice on composing,” Kanade said. “I think she’ll be fine on her own.”

“Well, with a teacher like you, who could argue otherwise?” he said with a smile.

They fell silent after that, taking a moment to just bask in each other’s presence.

Yuzuru wouldn’t have minded if he could just stay like that forever.

“What about you?”

The sudden question caught him off guard. “Sorry?” he asked.

“What are your plans for the future?” Kanade asked.

Her gaze was resolute and unwavering; he didn’t think he had any chance of dodging the question.

“What do I want to do?” he mused. “I suppose I’ll just carry on as I’ve always had, running my shop.”

“Don’t you want to do something else? Something that will make you more successful?” she inquired.

He laughed. “I don’t need to be successful. Just happy.” He smiled as he thought back to the friends he had made running the shop: Yuri, who always liked causing him trouble but was always looking out for him; Hinata, who liked to complain to him about his problems, but was ultimately a reliable friend; and Yui, who liked to push him with her boisterous attitude, but was ready to help when needed.

And most importantly . . .

“Without that shop, I would never have met you. And you’re all I need to be happy.”

He stared at her intensely, his voice thick with passion. She had blushed at his comment, the faint red plainly obvious on her milky-white skin. Her golden eyes stared back into his own, as precious as the material from which they took their color. He felt drawn in, irresistibly brought closer like a man within reach of his lifelong dream.

So close, her scent was almost overpowering at this range. It was a fragrant smell, like a garden of flowers on a cool summer day.

He could see the desire in her eyes. The desire to be loved and acknowledged. The desire to be held by someone close to you and told that you were special, that you were important.

A desire that had been robbed from the both of them for all this time.

Until now.

His hand slipped from hers and instead joined his other hand around her waist. He leaned in –

Their lips met, and something as mundane as thought became far too troublesome to worry about when there were more important matters to tend to.


	11. Towards the future

**_The more things change . . ._ **

The door to his shop slammed open, and a purple-haired whirlwind of chaos waltzed in.

“Yuzuru! I’m about to make your day!” Yuri said with a grin.

He smiled back. “Good morning to you too.”

Despite the years that had passed, Yuri’s vibrant personality had remained the same as ever. On the other hand, her appearance had matured a great deal: she had grown her hair out, its long strands cascading down her back like a royal’s cape. Her features were sharper, more refined, and she held herself with a calm dignity that lacked any hint of the rashness of youth. But the biggest change . . .

Was the ring on her left hand.

Honestly, he pitied whatever poor soul was now bound to her through the legal ties she loved so much. Yuri was a handful at the best of times; he couldn’t imagine dealing with her on a daily basis.

She sat down at the counter and looked at him expectantly. “The usual, please.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “I see you didn’t bring your usual posse today. What would your husband say if he knew you had gone to see another man all by your lonesome?” he said teasingly.

“If he said anything, I would hit him to make him shut up. He should know by now that I’m not such a fickle person.” She looked at him mischievously. “If anything, your wife should be the one worrying. After all . . .” She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Who could possibly resist my womanly charms?”

He laughed. “Considering how long it took you to get hitched, I’d say that quite a few men could resist your ‘charms.’”

She scowled at him. “You know it’s not my fault I was so busy! The cases were piling up left and right.” She sighed heavily. “I was ready to collapse by the time we got through the backlog.”

“Well, at least your firm got a lot of money out of it, right?” he asked as he continued pouring and mixing her drink.

“Yeah. But it’s hard to think about that when my hands feel like they’re about to fall off and my butt is about to develop a permanent cramp after sitting down for hours on end,” she said with a huff.

He chuckled at her irritated expression as he slid her drink in front of her. “Here you go.”

“Ah, thanks.” She took a deep gulp and sighed. “Great stuff as usual.”

He smiled and nodded at her compliment. “Anyway, what did you mean when you said you were about to ‘make my day?’”

Coming from Yuri, “making his day” generally involved bringing a bunch of her co-workers over and swamping him with orders (usually complex ones, because apparently lawyers were determined to have coffee as complicated as their jobs).

But seeing as she was alone today, she must have had something else in mind.

“Oh, right.” She took another sip. “Some of the partners like your drinks so much that they want them every day. Since getting here and back would be far too much trouble for their oh-so-busy schedules . . .” She rolled her eyes. “I got designated as the delivery girl since I don’t have any active cases. So, you’re going to get to see my pretty face a lot more often.”

Yuzuru felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. “I’m assuming they gave you a list of what they wanted . . . ?”

She smiled at him.

It was not a nice smile.

“Why, yes they did!” she said in a sweet tone. “Lemme just pull it out real quick~”

 The piece of paper she pulled out was long.

Far too long.

When unfurled fully, it was almost half as tall as Yuri.

At a glance, he could see it was completely covered in writing, each order meticulously specifying the serving size, blending method, and other measurements.

Hmm. Maybe he should invest in some headache medicine; after all, if he would have to deal with this _daily_ now, he would definitely get a migraine sooner or later.

“Well,” he said in a small voice. “That’s . . . quite a lot of . . . highly detailed orders.”

Yuri nodded sagely. “Indeed it is. Of course, we’re willing to pay handsomely for going through all this trouble. Lawyers have big wallets, you know?”

He sighed. With a list this long, he might as well get started.

“Oh, I almost forgot –” Yuri called out at the last second.

She flipped the paper over, revealing the backside to be completely covered in orders as well.

“Don’t forget these!” she said with a smile.

He sighed again.

The things he did to stay in business.

xxx

Yuri hadn’t been the only one who had decided to let her hair down.

Yui had shown up to her wedding with her beautiful, long hair flowing behind her, the various flowers braided into it swirling about in a storm of petals.

Yuzuru hadn’t been sure if Hinata would’ve been able to get his jaw off the floor in time for the vows.

But his friend had persevered, and now he was bound to the woman who he still came to him to complain about.

Although, “complain” might be a strong word.

Yuzuru slid a drink next to the mop of blue hair who was using his counter as a headrest.

A hand slipped out, grabbed the mug and snapped back, leaving a muffled “thanks” in its wake.

“What crazy scheme did she come up with this time?” Yuzuru asked with an amused look.

Hinata put down the cup after taking a deep gulp, looking as if he had recovered from whatever ordeal he had just gone through.

“Yuzuru,” he said with a serious expression. “How many places did you go during your honeymoon?”

“Hmm?” Yuzuru tilted his head in thought. “We only went to Hawaii for a week. Why?”

His friend nodded sagely. “I want to Hawaii too.” He took another gulp. “And to France, Greece, Italy, some exotic islands, and I can’t even remember what else.”  He sighed. “Who knew marriage would be so _expensive_?” he lamented.

He chuckled. “Well, at least you put the money from winning that baseball championship to good use.”

“I was hoping to save some of it instead of spending it all at once!”

“Well, at least it was fun, right?”

Hinata paused. “It was the best time of my life,” he declared. “But . . .” He winced. “Every time I look at the bill from all those trips put together, I die a little inside.”

“All you have to do is win another major championship and you’ll recoup all your losses, right?” Yuzuru said with an easy grin.

His friend gave him a flat look. “Hah, hah. Yeah, why don’t I go around the next corner and pick up a tournament win like I’m picking up the newspaper or something.”

“With how well your team has been performing as of late, it might very well be that easy for you,” he said.

Hinata didn’t seem too certain about that. “Hmm. Perhaps. I doubt our luck will last that long though.”

“One can pray. How’s Yui been doing, by the way?”

“Working hard, mostly.” He took another sip. “Ever since her band has started to hit it off, she’s poured countless hours into composing new songs and practice. I think our honeymoon was the only time she took a break from that stuff.”

“Make sure she doesn’t wear herself out too fast,” Yuzuru cautioned. “Confiscate her instrument if you have to.”

Hinata snorted. “Hah! As if she’d let me do that. I’d just end up with a foot in my face for my trouble.”

“In that case, be subtler about it. Just distract her for a while. I’m sure you can think of plenty of ways to do that now that you two are married.” Yuzuru sent his friend a suggestive wink.

Hinata had the misfortune of being in the middle of a sip at that time.

“What – **cough, cough** – what the heck are you saying?!”

“Oh, nothing. Just a few ideas,” he replied innocently.

“Yeah, well . . .” Hinata looked away with a flushed face. “Some of those would probably cause problems.”

“If you make sure the door is closed, I’m sure no one will complain.”

“That’s not the issue!”

xxx

“I’m home.”

Yuzuru locked the door behind him as he entered his house.

The house he shared with the woman he loved.

It was much smaller than the old residence she had lived in. But instead of making it feel more restrictive and confining, it made each inch of the house feel well-used and lived in.

It was not too large. Nor was it too small.

Instead, it was . . .

Just right.

How long has it been? Somewhat over a decade since they first met, he thought.

If the him of a decade ago knew where he was today, the younger Yuzuru would surely think the life he led today was nothing more than a pleasant dream.

But it was not just a dream.

It was reality.

A reality that he had built with his own hands, together with the woman at his side.

Speaking of her, there she was now.

Kanade stood in the doorway in all her radiant beauty.

“Welcome home.”

Like an eternal angel, she had remained untouched by the passage of time. The only sign that the years had passed at all for her was the ring that adorned her left hand.

A ring whose counterpart resided on his own left hand.

He smiled at his wife. “Glad to be home at last.” He sniffed the air. “Mapo tofu, again? Honestly, you never seem to tire of it, do you?”

“It’s delicious.”

“I won’t argue with that, but wouldn’t you like some variety every once in a while?”

“That’s what your turn to cook is for.”

He chuckled. “Is that so? I’ll have to try my best tomorrow to prove the worth of non-Mapo tofu food!”

“Whatever it is, it’s not as good.”

“Don’t judge when you haven’t even tasted the dish yet!”

As she turned back towards the kitchen, Yuzuru wondered if teaching her to cook had been the best idea.

His taste buds certainly wouldn’t think so. Eggshells accidentally mixed in, burned food, excess use of certain ingredients . . . he’s experienced them all.

Even after she had developed a degree of competency, the only dish she had desired to make was Mapo tofu.

And since they took turns cooking, that meant he had to eat it several times each week.

It only took him a few weeks to realize that he should buy extra water at the store if this routine was going to keep on going.

Or else his taste buds would be permanently scorched numb.

Which would be quite inconvenient since his job had him dealing with food and drinks most of the time, and he wouldn’t be able to develop new recipes if he couldn’t even tell what they tasted like.

xxx

“How’s the new song coming along?”

After washing the dishes from dinner, they had settled themselves on the couch in the living room, where they would talk about what happened during their day.

“It’s finished. Would you like to hear it later?”

“I’d love to.”

Kanade had become a renowned composer and pianist on the internet, although she maintained her anonymity with an alias. The videos of her performing her original pieces often received a massive amount of attention, and several companies, wanting to use her music in their products, had even approached her with offers.

It still wasn’t as lucrative as her original career as a concert pianist, but she seemed to enjoy herself much more in her new profession.

As for him . . . well, nothing had changed much on that front. He had renovated his shop after it began showing signs of wear and tear, which was expensive, but his café’s new look seemed to draw in more customers, so he would count that as a success.

“How was your day?” Kanade asked.

“Mostly the same old thing. Customers come in, I brew them drinks, then they pay and leave.” Yuzuru waved his hand in the air vaguely. “Oh, but I did see Yuri and Hinata today though.”

“Oh? How were they?”

“Same as usual. Yuri ended up giving me more work, and Hinata was complaining about Yui again.”

She gave a brief smile at that explanation before inching closer and leaning on him, resting her head on his shoulder.

As he inhaled her sweet scent, his hand snaked across her waist and drew her in closer. They lapsed into a comfortable silence, simply relaxing in each other’s presence.

“Has it really only been a decade?” he wondered out loud.

“Fifteen years, to be exact.”

“Only fifteen years? At this point, I feel like I’ve known you all my life.”

“It’s because of recency bias. Your new, happy memories are overshadowing your old, painful ones.”

“Too true. I don’t think I will ever forget our wedding day . . .”

It had been a beautiful, sparkling day. The sky was clear, the sun shone brightly, and a gentle breeze caressed those in attendance, as if God himself had declared that the day was to be perfect for this special occasion.

The guest list had not been very large. It had included their friends, such as Yuri, Yui, and Hinata. Yuri and Yui had invited their co-workers and bandmates, respectively, to “inflate the guest list a tad bit” as the lawyer had put it.

He had gone through the entire ceremony in a daze, still not entirely convinced that it was real, that he was getting _married_.

After an afterparty that had lasted far too long (Yui and her band had brought in their instruments at one point and had an impromptu concert) and the guests had all left, it finally sunk in that it was over, that he was a _husband_ and he had a _wife_.

And as said wife turned and smiled at him, he felt his heart soar.

It was the happiest day of his life.

As they prepared to leave, they spotted a previously unnoticed letter addressed to them on a table.

It was unsigned, and the message within contained but a single word:

_“Congratulations.”_

It was not hard to guess who the sender was. The guest list had been short, and only one person who they had invited hadn’t shown up.

It was just like Shiina to express her feelings in such an indirect manner. He hadn’t seen the reclusive girl ever since they had moved out of Kanade’s larger home, but wherever she was, he hoped that she was well.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Could you play it for me? ‘Our Song’?”

That was the name of the song that had been inspired by him.

No, that wasn’t quite right. It was inspired by _them_.

By their time together, and the experiences they had shared.

She had started working on it so long ago, but she had continued to add bits and pieces to it to this day.

It was a living piece, one that would not end.

Not until the composer herself had withered and faded away.

But even then, perhaps their descendants would continue it.

Who knew? But he didn’t want to think about having children yet.

“Okay,” she replied softly.  

They untangled themselves from each other and stood up. He followed his wife into her studio, where her instrument and recording equipment resided.

The equipment in there was far above what they had initially borrowed from Yui, leading to higher resolution recordings and higher quality audio. He still had no idea what half the stuff in there did, but Kanade had learned fast and quickly became proficient in their use.

Unfortunately, whenever the wires got tangled together, she always roped him into helping her untangle them, which was a pain at times (the worst had been when his wife had gotten _herself_ tangled in the wires too).

Kanade sat down at the piano while he stood off to the side, careful to avoid the wires like they were a hungry beast just waiting to devour him if he made the slightest misstep.

“It’s not finished yet,” she told him.

“I know.” He smiled. “That’s what’s exciting about it, right? Waiting to see what happens next.”

She smiled in return. “Yes, that’s true.”

As the notes poured out of the instrument like water from a pitcher, they immersed him in their flow.

In the story the song sought to tell him.

But, he knew the story already. It was simply reminding him.

Of the events that have past.

And the events that will come.

So long as she was by his side . . .

He was ready to face anything.

**_The more they stay the same._ **


End file.
